Black Hair & Quartz-Gray Eyes
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring two of our favorite Grisha characters. :) Alina moves in across the street from Aleksander, and immediately, she decides she can't stand him. Eventually, however, he grows to become her drug: dark, addicting, and just a bit bad for her.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey, people! So this is just a little one-shot I decided to write. There will be more, don't worry, but my computer recently died and this was the first day I could get online again. I won't be able to update as often, but I'll do my best. Anyway, like always, I own none of these characters. Leave a review if you like it, and maybe request ideas for more one-shots. I'm just gonna write them down as I think of them. Hope you like it! :)**_

**Strangers**

He lived across the street from her.

The boy who never laughed, or smiled, or sang, or danced. The boy who never did any of those wonderful things, who never hated, but didn't ever love either.

The boy with hair like black cat's fur, with eyes like snow at dusk.

Alina never spoke to him, though she saw him nearly every day, leaving his house for one thing o

r another. She couldn't explain why she was so curious about him. She supposed it began when she first moved in and noticed him stepping outside into the cool afternoon air. It was a beautiful spring day without a cloud in the sky. Sunset lit the trees aflame and washed the side of her humble little house in glorious orange light. She was outside in the yard, studying the lone tree there and wondering whether she should have it cut down or not. Her hands were planted thoughtfully on her hips, head tilted slightly to one side, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. That was the position she froze in when she glanced over and glimpsed the door of the house across the street open.

She stared as he appeared in the doorway, a tall figure in jeans and a black T-shirt. She knew she shouldn't look for this long, but it was nearly impossible; it was her first sight of him, after all, and she hadn't expected him to look so._..beautiful, _she thought absently. Men weren't really supposed to be "beautiful," but he was. His coal-black hair swept down into his eyes and his skin was touched to gold from the dying sunlight. He was leanly built, but with broad shoulders and noticeable strength in his arms. He moved like water, walking with a confident grace she'd never seen before.

He was turning, heading for the gleaming black motorcycle waiting in his driveway, and as he did, his gaze flicked to her. Heart jumping, Alina tentatively waved a hand in greeting, offering a friendly smile. She was his new neighbor, after all. He blinked and his walk slowed slightly. The barest ghost of a smile quirked his mouth and he raised his hand to return the hello.

Then the moment was gone. She watched in silence as he swung a leg over his motorcycle and the engine roared to life. In the next instant, she was alone again.

**Aleksander**

Alina learned his name in a way that embarrassed her to no end.

3:30. That was the time her digital clock told her it was when once again, the thunder of his motorcycle shook her awake. She jerked into a sitting position in bed, her hair a rumpled mess and a bleary-eyed scowl on her face. The rumble of the engine outside seemed to mock her, growing louder as he drew closer and pulled into his driveway across the street. Tiredness dragged at her bones. This was the fourth time she'd been woken up by his stupid bike. God knew what he did, coming back at this hour. But she couldn't stand it. Despite the fact that she wore only short shorts and an old gray T-shirt, she flung off the covers and stomped into her shoes. The stairs creaked a protest beneath her as she stormed from the house.

The streetlights spilled pools of yellow onto the pavement and above, the sky was the deep blue of night nearing dawn. The air was chilly, with just a hint of coming warmth later. She strode across the street with her arms crossed. The annoyance in her grew with every step. _I haven't been able to get a full night of sleep for a week_. The thought pushed her on.

The motorcycle's constant growling had been cut off earlier and now she could see him approaching his front door. He made it to the doorstep at the same time she did and halted in faint surprise. Then she was glaring up at him, standing there with her bedhead while he looked down at her in all his blue-jeans-and-leather-jacket glory. She was a mess and she knew it. And he was a hot mess, which she also knew, which also irritated her even more.

"Hi," she began harshly.

His eyes were gray. Quartz-gray. She hadn't noticed them as much before, but up close, they were stunning. His voice was low and disinterested when he replied. "Hi."

"Do you know what time it is?" she demanded.

He arched one eyebrow. "Do _you_?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're at my house, looking ticked, at four in the morning."

Her jaw dropped. Who did this guy think he was? "You're driving a motorcycle down the street at _three-thirty _in the morning!" she pointed out, correcting him contemptuously. She jabbed a finger toward the place where his motorcycle would be, unseen in the darkness. "I haven't gotten any sleep with that thing around here! What're you even doing this late?"

"None of your business," he returned simply. He didn't look bothered at all by her reaction, regarding her through hooded eyes.

"None of my—" she repeated, breaking off incredulously. "I want to sleep!"

"So sleep."

"I can't with your motorcycle always tearing through here."

"No one else seems to be complaining."

"No one else lives across the street."

One corner of his mouth turned up, taking her off-guard. It was a half-smile and nothing more, but it was more than she'd ever seen on his face. He cocked his head as though she was a difficult problem that needed solving and he couldn't quite figure it out. "What's your name?"

"Alina," she answered, mostly out of habit. Her irritation still boiled inside.

The irritation was almost swept away completely when he unexpectedly held out a hand to her. "I'm Aleksander," he said.

Her eyebrows flicked up. How could he have changed to being friendly after her outburst? Reluctantly, she took his hand and shook. His palm was warm, soft instead of callused, like she'd imagined. Her cheeks blushed inexplicably when she let go. "I...it's...what?"

Aleksander's half-smile widened. It was the most attractive thing she'd ever seen. "Don't act so surprised," he advised in amusement. "We're neighbors now; I was going to introduce myself eventually." He gestured toward his driveway. "Sorry about the noise."

She gaped at him. "You...it won't happen again?" she strutted uncertainly. She didn't want to sound mean, but she wanted it to stop.

"It won't happen again," he confirmed. His gray eyes flickered.

"Oh. Okay then." She took a step back, suddenly aware of her surroundings and the time, and her clothes. And her hair.

His smile stayed in place. "Goodnight, Alina."

"Goodnight, Aleksander," was all she could think to say.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, sorry for the long wait. I finally was able to post again today. I'm glad you liked the first few one-shots so far, and I really hope you like this one. Well, let me know what you think! Suggestions and reviews are always welcome :)**

**_Heat_**

****It was absolutely SMOLDERING outside. Summer had arrived with a full force of blistering heat and scorching sunlight. Alina couldn't begin to imagine how she was going to survive it.

Thankfully, her little house, which had been so cozy in the winter, was also blessedly cool in the summer; she had every window open and the crisp outdoor air blew in, smelling of leaves and lush grass. She was sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, reading a book. She had given up on looking presentable at all. Her hair was piled into a messy bun with strands falling loose around her face. She wore shorts and a tank top. It wasn't what she would've wanted other people to see her in, but since she was staying indoors all day, she decided she didn't care. With a decisive flick of her hand, she turned the page in her novel.

She made it past two sentences before she glanced up at the window. She wouldn't have stopped halfway through the chapter if she hadn't noticed HIM. The window faced the street and the house across from hers. The house that belonged to her sometimes-irritating neighbor, Aleksander Morozova. Right now, though, he didn't look so irritating.

He was in the driveway. Washing his car. He had a motorcycle and a car, a very expensive, sleek thing that looked as though it'd been carved from obsidian. And he was washing it.

In ninety-degree weather.

Shirtless.

Alina felt her jaw drop open in a mixture of shock and awe. She was immediately embarrassed by her ridiculous behavior, but she couldn't help it. Even from this far away, it was obvious that he was attractive, unbearably attractive. They had talked enough times since their first meeting for her to know every flawless detail of his face, his eyes. But she had never seen this before.

Something fluttered in her stomach. He was out there, alone, in the heat. She didn't want to experience what that had to feel like, not in this weather. But at the same time, she couldn't watch him die of a stroke. Her decision was made and she jumped up from the sofa. She slipped on her flip flops, hastily tossing her book onto a coffee table. Before she could think better of it, she was out the front door and walking into the stifling sunlight.

It didn't take her too long to reach him, and when she did, she had to take a moment to compose herself before she spoke. God, she had never seen anything like him. He wore only his impressive black boots and a dark pair of Levi's, a stunning and perfect contrast to his sun-kissed skin. His back was to her at the moment, his muscles flexing beautifully as he moved. She thought she saw tiny water droplets clinging to his skin, gleaming on his broad shoulders. Everything about this moment felt dangerous, like she might be drawn to him before she could stop herself. He was just a neighbor, after all. He wasn't supposed to make her feel like this. She took a steadying breath.

"Hey," she greeted, trying for a bright tone.

He turned and blinked at her in surprise. "Hey."

Alina felt herself stiffen as he faced her. Dear Lord, his abs. "Uh...it's kinda...hot out here," she remarked stutteringly. "Don't you think?"

"Just a bit, yeah," he replied. He looked amused, a classic half-smile playing on his lips. His black hair was pleasantly mussed, flopping across his eyes.

"And you don't mind standing out here?" she asked. "Slowing dying?"

He chuckled, a rich dark sound that coiled its way inside her. "No, I don't mind. Why?"

She shuffled her feet. "I was just wondering. I mean, I wanted to know if you were thinking of maybe taking a break or something. Because I could get you a drink you know, I don't mind." Wow, she was babbling. She had to control that somehow.

"I'm fine, Alina," he answered, still in that amused tone. "But thank you."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He flashed her a sideways smile then, and it was utterly dazzling. His stormy gaze shimmered like ashen diamonds. He was lethally gorgeous.

She tried not to show her disappointment. The conversation was clearly over; she certainly couldn't think of any way to keep it going. "Okay." She began to step back.

"You look nice today."

She paused. His voice had changed. It was like honey, satin-smooth and tempting. She looked up to see him watching her. "Not really," she laughed, shoving her hands in her pockets. "It was hot, so I just threw this stuff on."

"Really?" He tipped his head.

"Really. And don't even mention my hair."

His smile widened. He moved closer to her. "I like your hair like that," he commented.

She was sure she was blushing horribly. "You don't have to lie to me," she joked, half-serious.

"I'm not lying." He was even closer now. There were mere inches between them. Up close, his beauty was striking. "It makes you look..." he thought for a moment. Absently, he reached up to catch a loose strand of her hair and guided it back behind her ear. "Beautiful, in an effortless way." He searched her face cautiously. "If you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind," she replied shakily. Her heart was doing strange flips in her chest. She felt that at any moment, she'd do something stupid, something she shouldn't. "But I still don't believe you," she went on without thinking. She dropped her eyes. "Not when you're so—" She broke off in horror, turning scarlet.

He arched an eyebrow. A smirk curved his lips. "When I'm so...?"

"Nothing. Er, forget I said that."

"I don't think I can."

"Yes, you can and you will."

He laughed at her, a sound of pure sexiness. He looked down, as if he was self-conscious of her attention. Then he glanced up at her through sooty lashes, an imploring expression on his face. "Please?" he tried mischievously. He was so handsome, it hurt.

Alina felt suddenly lightheaded. She sighed. "It's just...you're so," she stopped, swallowed, and confessed, "flawless." It came out as a mumble.

Aleksander's smile faded a bit in surprise. "You think I'm flawless?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Please don't rub it in," she groaned, putting a hand to her forehead in despair.

"I wouldn't dream of it." His deadly grin surfaced again then and he carefully touched the back of the hand she held to her head. She froze. Moving slowly, he pulled her hand into his. "Not when I feel so flawed," he continued, "compared to you." His fingers were cool and long, brushing softly over her wrist. He turned her hand over so that the palm faced up.

"But...I'm not..." She broke off. He was rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb, stroking her skin in a way that made her woozy. She struggled to stifle a gasp.

His eyes glinted questioningly. "You okay?" he asked. "You look a little dizzy, Alina."

"I'm just—hot," she stammered the excuse uselessly. His thumb still dragged over her skin. She had a sudden, awful urge to push him back against his car, to touch him, feel the shape of his smirk on her mouth. It scared her.

She didn't miss his knowing look, but he stayed quiet. Instead, he dropped her hand. The strange pull toward him stopped and she took a deep breath. God. He was stepping back now, away from her. "See you later?" he asked, almost hopefully.

She found that she couldn't say no to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Touch

-Agh, I'm so so sorry for not updating this for you guys! There were so many other stories that stole my heart recently and I forgot that this existed! But I'm back, and I plan on writing more one-shots for this little storyline :) I hope you like it (even though my writing for these two may be a little rusty) and please forgive me for leaving you all hanging! Feel free to request chapters or ideas for the story, and of course, reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!-

It was 12:47. Those were the numbers glowing bright green from Alina's digital clock when she was awakened that morning. At first, she figured the sound had been part of some dream she'd been having. She couldn't even figure out what it was, her mind was so numbed by sleep. Shoving strands of dark brown hair out of her face, she burrowed back into her pillow and the safety of dreams.

The sound came again. It was louder this time, and definitely part of the real world. Someone was knocking on her door.

"What the heck?" she mumbled groggily, pushing herself up into a sloppy sitting position. She twisted to peer out from between her window curtains. The slice of sky she could see was pitch-black and splashed with silvery stars. Who could be coming to her house at this time of night? "Better find out who it is," she muttered to herself.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up and took a moment to stretch. As she did, the hem of her oversized, gray tee inched up her legs. Better not wear this to answer the door, she thought, snagging a pair of black short shorts and tugging them on. Then, bleary-eyed and messy-haired, she padded out of her bedroom and down the hall.

Alina's house was all one story, and had a nice, open layout. The hall from her bedroom led out to the kitchen, on the right, and the living room straight ahead. There was also a nice sitting room back past the living room that she only used on cold winter nights because it was the warmest place in the house. Now, she flicked on a lamp on a coffee table as she passed the kitchen and headed straight to the front door. Pausing on the other side of it, she bit her lip in a flash of anxiety. What if it was a serial killer waiting out there? Pressing her ear to the door, she inched it open a crack, keeping the chain locked in place. She called, "um...can I help you?"

Out on the front porch was a dark silhouette. It seemed to be a person, hunched over awkwardly. She could hear ragged breathing. Then came a voice, a voice that had become familiar to her over the past few weeks. "Alina? It's me, Aleksander. Can I come in?"

Alina blinked. Her neighbor wanted to come over in the middle of the night? She'd gotten to know Aleksander a little bit better since she'd met him, but still. They were hardly THIS close. "Sure," she answered automatically. She closed the door so that she could unlatch the chain. Swinging it open, she continued, "is something wrong, because it's kinda late—Oh my God, what happened?" Her eyebrows shot up at the sight of him.

Aleksander was standing crookedly on her porch, holding his arm close to his side. He was wearing jeans and his usual leather jacket, but the white T-shirt underneath was stained. Pink and crimson splatters painted the fabric, especially near where he was holding his arm. And that wasn't all. His face was now marred by scratches on his cheeks and a bruise on his jaw. Despite his obvious discomfort, he was as calm and collected as ever. "I need help," he told her, sighing as he said it. "I was in a fight."

"A FIGHT?" she echoed incredulously. "Why the hell did you get into a fight?"

"I'm not the one who started it," he replied. "But I'd really rather talk about it later." He shifted his weight to his other foot with a grimace. "The guy had a knife and I didn't realize it until he pulled it on me."

Alina's mind was spinning with questions, as it always did when she was around her mysterious neighbor. But now wasn't the time to ask them. "Okay, okay, um," she stammered, stepping back to let him past. "You can come in and I'll try to find something to clean you up with. I'm not a nurse or anything, but I can try..."

He shuffled past her into the house, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Nodding once, she pushed the door shut again. Hurrying past him, she started toward the kitchen. "Uh, you can sit over there if you want," she told him, pointing at her cream-colored sofa. She inwardly prayed he wouldn't get too much blood on it. She grabbed a washrag from beside the sink and soaked it in cold water. "Do you want me to call the cops or anything?" she asked. "Or an ambulance?"

Aleksander sank onto the couch with a long breath. "No. I'm not hurt that badly. I just needed some help." He seemed a little embarrassed to admit such a thing.

Alina hurried back over with the dripping rag and offered a reassuring smile. "Well, now you got some." She plopped down onto the matching ottoman in front of him and gestured at his clothes. "Ummm...I hope this isn't awkward, but do you...wanna take your shirt off? I can wash it later, if you want, to get the blood off..."

His mouth quirked up at one side, as though he was amused by her shyness. "No problem," he answered, already shrugging out of his jacket. Wincing at the pain, he carefully peeled off his shirt next.

Alina tried not to stare, she really did. But even with the bloody wounds to his arm and chest, he was breathtakingly beautiful. She scolded herself for gaping at him like this and scooted the ottoman closed to him. "Wow," she remarked, squinting at the blood welling from his cuts. "Good thing these aren't that deep, because I don't think I could give you stitches."

"Yeah, I don't think he expected me to fight back like I did," he replied with a touch of humor. He reached out for the wet washrag. "I can get these ones myself. There's one on my back though that I can't reach."

"Oh. Well, I'll be right back then." She handed over the rag and left to fetch another. "So, how exactly did this happen? It's not every day I get a beaten-up guy on my doorstep at one o'clock in the morning,"

He huffed a humorless laugh. "It's a long story."

"I can listen." She smiled encouragingly as she walked back with a fresh washrag.

Aleksander watched silently as she sat down beside him this time, to clean the wound on his back. The lamplight caught in his ashy eyes and picked out different shades, from charcoal-gray to icy, almost-white. "If I'm gonna tell you what happened," he began slowly, "then I have to also tell you why I go out almost every night."

"And wake me up with your motorcycle," she added flatly.

A half-grin tugged at his lips. "Yes, and wake you up with my motorcycle."

"Go on, then." She leaned over as she spoke, peering at a long line of scarlet across his shoulder blades. (she was NOT looking at the lovely flex of muscle in his back, OR his sun-tanned skin, not at all, nope, wouldn't dream of it)

He exhaled roughly, as though trying to come up with the words. As he did, he pressed the damp rag against the ragged cut on his upper arm. "First you need to know that...my mother died when I was thirteen."

Alina, in the process of touching her own rag to the edge of his injury, paused. "Oh..." She trailed off, feeling as though there was a new weight in the room. "Aleksander, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he answered, sounding like he said that automatically, a rehearsed line. "She had cancer, in one of its worse stages, and after a while, she went completely blind. I tried to take care of her, of course, but it was hard. I was young. My father had left us when I was a baby and I had no other siblings to help me. Eventually, she passed away." He watched the white fabric of the washrag turn pink with his blood. "It was at night, around two-thirty in the morning. She was buried in a cemetery a few miles from here. That's where I go at night."

Her eyebrows flicked up. "Really?" she asked. "Not that I think it's bad; I'm just surprised that you go that often."

"Yeah, well," he replied quietly," we were close. We were all we had. I try to go at the time that she died. It makes me feel like she's there, in a way."

"I can understand that. So that's where you were tonight?"

"I was going there, anyway. Stopping somewhere beforehand. Figures, the one night I don't go straight there is the night I get jumped by two guys."

Alina felt her eyes widen, keeping her washrag firmly against his back. "You were jumped by TWO guys?" she echoed in shock. "How'd you fight them off?"

"I'd like to think I'm a little stronger than you think I am," he teased, turning to flash her a half-grin over his shoulder.

Predictably, a slight blush tinted her cheeks. "Well, still," she sniffed. "Two guys, and one apparently with a knife, is hard to handle. Even for you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Cocky."

A dark chuckle rippled up from his ribcage. "Tall, Dark, and Cocky, huh? I thought that used to end in Handsome."

"Now it doesn't," she decided triumphantly. "Deal with it."

"Ouch."

"Sorry, did I hurt your ego?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Letting a guy bleed out in my couch in the middle of the night? Not really, no."

They fell into a comfortable silence. Alina managed to clean up most of the blood from Aleksander's skin, though the wound itself was still an ugly crimson. It wasn't very deep, but she'd done all she could for it. Folding the rag up in her grasp, she settled onto the couch beside him with a long exhale. He glanced sideways at her, holding his rag to his arm. "Thank you," he said after a few moments.

She blinked in surprise. "For what?"

"For letting me bleed out on your couch," he teased. Then the play faded from his expression. "And for helping me."

"It's no big deal," she replied, waving it off with a hand.

"It is, though. You don't know me very well, but you still let me in when I needed you. So I'm grateful."

Something about his voice was sinking slowly into her veins. "You're welcome," she said.

He cocked his head, studying her. "You live here alone?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh—Yes," she answered. She tossed her rag onto the coffee table, intending to pick it up later. "I used to have a roommate, but she moved out when she got married. So I have the place all to myself now."

"Who was your roommate?"

"My best friend. Her name's Genya. She's a great makeup artist."

"And you?"

"Me?"

"What do you do?"

Alina smoothed her hair back behind one ear. "I'm a bit of an artist myself," she answered. "I paint, and sketch. I'm teaching art classes up at a high school, once the summer's over."

"An artist," he repeated thoughtfully. He gave her one of those lovely half-smiles. "I bet you're brilliant at it."

She snorted in disbelief. "What makes you think that?"

"Because you're brilliant at everything else you do."

She felt her mouth go dry at his words. In that instant, she realized that there were only a few inches between them on the couch. He was looking at her with those quartz-gray eyes and she found she couldn't move under their hold. She wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but no words left her lips. The heat in the room had grown to a physical presence.

He braced a hand on the couch cushion, leaning closer, and she inhaled shakily. "Aleksander..." Their foreheads brushed, and she felt the velvety, black silk of his hair on her skin. He'd abandoned his washrag and now his fingertips lightly grazed her cheek. She released a tiny sound involuntarily at his touch.

Faint amusement, mingling with fascination, flickered in his expression at her reactions. "Alina," he murmured, her name spoken like a goddesses's.

"What?" she slurred. She was under the spell of his palm cupping her cheek.

"I want to kiss you."

She couldn't stop her gaze from dropping to his lips then, admiring the graceful rises of the upper one and the soft curve of the lower. The awful hunger to feel them against her own left her breathless. But when he angled his head to close the gap, she panicked. He was right: she barely knew him. They were hardly friends and now they were—they were going to—

"Wait," she blurted out, but it came as a whisper. It was enough, though. Aleksander paused, his eyes on her, searching her face. She gazed back at him helplessly, biting her lower lip in embarrassment.

Resignation fell over his gaze. "All right," he said simply.

She was startled that he'd let it go, just like that. But she didn't argue. He turned his head, brushing his lips against her cheek instead. It was horribly chaste, but it still sent shivers down her spine. His fingers were nearly in her hair. She longed to feel them threading into it. But he pulled back then, his touch leaving her completely. Disappointment mixed with relief fought inside of her. "I—I just," she stammered to explain, "I think we should...get to know each other better."

He'd reached for his shirt, and was slipping his arms through the sleeves. He smiled lopsidedly at her. "I'd like that," he replied. He tugged his shirt over his head with only a slight wince of pain. Then he gathered his jacket and stood up. "I should leave though. It's late. You need your sleep."

"Oh. Yeah." She swallowed and stood up too. Feeling awkward and strangely hopeful, she trailed after him to the front door.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and nodded to her once. "Thank you again, for your help."

"No problem," she replied dazedly.

When the door was shut behind him, and he was long gone, she could still feel his fingertips on her skin.


	4. Chapter 4

Tonight, Part One

-New chapter, yay! I'm so happy I got some reviews for this; I was half-afraid you all forgot about this story. But I'm very happy to see that you didn't, and I'm grateful for the support :)

I'm not gonna give away anything about this chapter. You're gonna have to read it yourselves, haha. Let me know what you think though!-

Alina didn't really enjoy throwing parties. She never liked the idea of having to clean up after everyone after they'd left her house, or risking someone bringing in their own alcohol. She hardly drank at all and the thought of becoming drunk or dealing with drunken partygoers bothered her. Plus, she'd never want to taint her tidy, neat house with the smell of drunken words, and the sound of too-loud music.

But she supposed this little get-together she'd planned today was close enough to a party. It was a simple evening together, on a beautiful, summer day. The air outside was golden and sunlit, and the air inside smelled of fruit and iced tea. She'd set out some bowls of strawberries and blueberries, along with a plate of different crackers and cheeses. All of them her friends' favorites, of course.

Her three best friends were gathered around her now, near the white kitchen island. Alina was in the process of pouring herself some lemonade by sink while one of her cockier friends, Zoya, shared another story.

"So, first, I tried to explain to this guy that yes, I could shave his head, but it meant he'd be bald, and he kept telling me, NO I CAN'T BE BALD, I'D HAD TO LOOK BALD...BUT PLEASE SHAVE ALL MY HAIR OFF. He made absolutely no sense, and I honestly considered quitting my job." The slender, blue-eyed girl was gesturing elegantly with her arms as she spoke, cascades of ebony hair falling about her shoulders. Zoya was a beautiful, ivory-skinned worker at a hair salon in town. Even though she could have a short temper, her stories were worth listening to, when you didn't get on her bad side.

Genya snorted a laugh from across the table. "If he didn't want to look bald, then why the hell is he asking you to shave his head?" she asked, resting her elbows on the counter.

Zoya tossed her arms up in the air. "Only God knows what was going on in that moron's head. All I know is that I'm NOT dealing with him again; I'll send him over to someone else next time."

"There probably won't BE a next time," Nikolai, the fourth member of the gang, put in. "He's not gonna have any hair left to cut for a while."

"True," Genya agreed, pointing at him for emphasis.

Alina glanced over her shoulder then, in time to see the curve appearing on Nikolai's lips. "Hey, don't encourage him," she told Genya, whose amber eyes glittered playfully. "His ego's already too big to fit in the room."

"Ooooooh!" Genya crowed gleefully, winking through the waves of honeyed hair falling out of her bun.

Nikolai's smug aura never left him as he straightened up regally and regarded Alina through scolding, hazel eyes. "Now, Alina, making fun of people isn't very nice." He stretched lazily, unaware of Zoya's eyes following his movements. Nikolai always had that way of moving about him, flowing and careless. He was a clever, too-arrogant fox sometimes, what with his wolfish smirk and golden hair.

But the girls all loved him (especially Zoya, who had developed a bit of a crush recently).

"Being intolerably cocky isn't very nice either," Alina returned lightly. A smile curved her lips at Genya's responding giggle.

"I am hardly 'intolerably cocky,'" Nikolai argued.

"Yeah, right."

"Okay, then, fine. When's the last time I acted cocky?"

"There are too many times to count."

Zoya slanted a look at Nikolai. "She got you, now," she told him matter-of-factly. "It's true; you're cocky as hell."

"Ha ha, very funny," he said, plucking up a blueberry from the bowl. "Next time you guys need my help with anything, I'm gonna remember this conversation."

"When have we ever asked you for help with anything?" Alina asked pointedly.

He tossed the blueberry in his mouth, then gestured at Genya. "One time, Genya asked me for advice on how to ask David out."

Genya instantly made choking sounds, Zoya let out a burst of crystalline laughter, and Alina grinned broadly. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at her friend, taking a sip of her lemonade. "Ooh, so THAT'S how you got married to your architect in the first place?"

"Shut up," Genya replied, blushing. "I was in a delicate situation. And I refuse to admit that Nikolai is responsible for our marriage."

The others broke out into loud groans of disapproval. Nikolai chucked another blueberry at Genya, who squawked before throwing it right back. "C'mon, Gen, you gotta man up and thank me sometime," he joked, dodging her throw with a roguish grin.

"Yeah, we were waiting for you to ask David out for FOREVER, and now we find out you needed NIKOLAI for dating advice," Alina put in. When Genya shot her a frown that screamed, you're not helping, Alina simply took a triumphant sip of her drink.

"Speaking of asking guys out," Zoya began slowly, "when is Alina going to ask out her hot neighbor?"

Genya instantly brightened at that. "What's this about a hot neighbor?" she asked eagerly.

Despite herself, Alina felt her cheeks growing hot. "He's not THAT hot," she muttered.

This was met with about forty snorts and scoffs of disbelief from the other girls. Nikolai looked on in amusement. "You can't start denying it now," Zoya told Alina pointedly. "You told me about a week ago that you thought he was hot. Now I wanna know what happened after that conversation..."

"NOTHING happened after that conversation," Alina insisted.

"Uh-huh, sure."

"I swear to God, Zoya..."

Genya giggled at the pair's banter and leaned forward gleefully. "You have a hot neighbor, Alina? Is this the same one that owns the motorcycle? How's he been doing lately, hm?" There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she spoke. She was enjoying how quickly the attention had been diverted away from her.

"Yes, Alina," Zoya added, propping her chin up elegantly on her hand, "how IS Aleksander doing?"

"Oooh, his name's Aleksander?" Genya asked. "Sounds smart."

"And sexy," Zoya put in.

"And I'm the only guy here, so this is awkward," Nikolai deadpanned.

Alina gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Nikolai. I guess some people just don't know when to STOP." She threw the word "stop" at Genya and Zoya like it was a poisoned dart. It was, unfortunately, ineffective.

Genya hopped away from the counter and flitted over to Alina as light as a fairy. "Oh, come on, Alina, there's no way we can stop now," she sang, looping an arm around Alina's shoulders. "You have to tell us if you're ever going to 'make the move' on the neighbor." She laughed aloud.

Alina rolled her eyes at all of them. "All right, you know what, I just remembered that I have a very important appointment tonight," she announced, and she set her glass down on the counter with a clink. Then she swept a sweet smile over everyone. "So sorry guys, but you're gonna have to leave."

"Aw, what?" Genya whined.

Nikolai narrowed his eyes. "She's lying."

"Actually, I'm not," Alina told him. "I'm going to..." She cast around in her mind hastily, searching for an excuse. "...a friend's house tonight. I left, um, something...there...and I have to get it."

Zoya arched a brow. "Does this 'friend' happen to live across the street?"

"So what if he does?" Alina asked lightly. Genya immediately took a breath to jump into the teasing again, but Alina gave her a playful shove. "Shut UP, Gen. Now, out, you guys. I'll try to think of another night we can hang out, okay?"

With only a few grumbles from Genya, the gang began to gather their things. Zoya rested her hand on Alina's shoulder as she passed by. "I expect to hear a full report next time," she said meaningfully. "And you know exactly what I'm talking about." A curve appeared to her crimson lips and she winked. "Until next time, Alina."

"Yeah, yeah," Alina scoffed, but with a grin on her face. "See ya, Zoya."

"Goodbye, bestie!" Genya gushed. She pulled Alina into a brief hug. "Don't get into any trouble without me!"

Nikolai, who had made it to the door and was waiting for the girls, paused with a hand on the knob. "I'd like to leave sometime this decade!" he called to them. He scowled when Zoya stuck her tongue out at him. Then he flashed Alina a smile. "See you later, Alina."

"Bye." Alina waved cheerfully as her friends all filed out the door. She trailed after them to watch as they all piled into their cars; Genya and Zoya in Zoya's royal blue one, and Nikolai into his white truck (Alina thought he'd chosen a truck just to feel taller and, well, better than people in other cars. He was cocky like that).

The rumble of the engines started and gravel crunched as they backed out of her driveway. She waited until they had disappeared down the street, waving one last time, before she stepped back inside. Closing the front door, she released a long sigh. Now that she wasn't entertaining anyone, she was ready to have some time to herself. Maybe break out that vanilla bubble soap Genya had boughten for her last Christmas and take a hot bath. That sounds nice, she thought, humming to herself as she wandered back toward the bathroom. She only made it halfway there when a curious sound came to her: the insistent knocking of someone at the door.

Pausing in surprise, Alina glanced back over her shoulder at the front door. Had Genya and the others come back already? She turned around and walked back to the door again. Swinging it open, she laughed, "you guys miss me alread—?" Her words froze in her throat when she saw who was actually standing in front of her.

"Alina," Aleksander greeted in that quiet, cool way of his. There was a slight curve to his lips as he regarded her through those sooty gray eyes. "Nice to see you again too."

"A—Aleksander," she stuttered, caught off-guard and now thoroughly flustered. "Um, I just had some friends over and...I thought you were...them." She self-consciously tucked away a piece of hair that had come loose from her ponytail.

"I saw them leaving," he replied, bobbing his head toward where the cars had gone down the road.

"Yes, they just left," she said, then wanted to punch herself because that was obvious. Her mind was starting to slip again, and it was all because of that distracting, charcoal-gray T-shirt that showed off his arms wonderfully. She inwardly snapped at herself to NOT STARE at him like she so often did nowadays. "So," she began, keeping her eyes firmly on his face, "what's up?"

"Are you free tonight?" he asked, that classic, almost-smile playing on his lips.

Her eyebrows rose. "Tonight? Uh, yeah, I think so." She tipped her head to one side, a grin threatening to curve her mouth. "Why?"

"I know a place close to here, with great food, that I was hoping you'd like to go to with me," he answered, slinging his thumbs in his jeans pockets.

Was that a trace of hope in his voice? "I dunno..." she trailed off teasingly. "Where is this 'place with great food?'"

He broke into a dazzling grin then, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Right across the street."

She ached an eyebrow at him. "Your house? And great food?"

He chuckled at her disbelieving expression. "I do know how to cook, Alina," he told her.

So. Dinner, at Aleksander Morozova's house. Tonight. Secretly, Alina wanted to say yes, and run back into the house to find her best casual-but-not-too-casual dress. But a devilish side of her wanted to make him squirm just a teeny bit. "Hmmmmm," she hummed indecisively, and tapped her chin for effect.

"It's just dinner, Alina," he assured her, clearly amused by how she was enjoying this.

Alina just kept giving him the same, don't-know-if-I-can-show-up look.

Aleksander's amusement grew. "We can call it a get-together instead of a date, if you want."

"A get-together, huh?" she echoed, nodding. "I can handle that." She couldn't resist letting out a burst of giddy laughter. It felt great to be kind of a tease. "What time is this get-together?"

"How's six-thirty sound?" he asked.

"Sounds great."

"I'll see you then."

"Yeah. I mean, see you."

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it dazedly. She'd just accepted a date with Aleksander. More specifically, "the hot neighbor," Aleksander.

She threw her hands up gleefully and proceeded to dance around the house like a thirteen-year-old girl.


	5. Chapter 5

Tonight, Part Two

-All right, Part Two is here! Thank you all so much for your reviews. I love knowing that I have awesome readers like you for support and I can't wait to hear more from you. There was one guest reviewer who said they wondered about Genya's age since she was already married. In most of my modern AU stories, everyone's in their early-ish twenties. (most of the time I make characters high school sweethearts who get married right after college or something) So yeah, Genya's pretty young to be married, I guess, but I'm a GIGANTIC sucker for true love, so yep. XD

Anyway, I know you've been waiting to read this, so I won't talk anymore. Let me know what you liked and what you wanna see in the next chapter! :)-

Alina was spending an obscene amount of time getting ready. She knew she was acting like a such a girl, but she didn't care. How often did she get to act like a girl, after all? Besides, this was an attractive, single guy she was going to see. There was nothing wrong with trying to impress him a little. So yes, she curled her hair and pulled it back into a wavy, mahogany ponytail. And she put on a bit of makeup, even though Alina hated wearing makeup of any kind.

Mascara and a little bit of eyeliner is hardly makeup, though, she thought to herself. It's just...a touchup. That's all. He probably won't even notice it.

She was kinda hoping he'd notice it though.

Hoping he'd notice HER.

So, when she showed up at Aleksander's door, she was wearing a modest, palest-yellow dress. It was a summery, flirty kind though, that flared out from her waist and stopped above her knees. A pretty, ivory bow was tied at her back. She'd paired it with flats though, not heels, because of course Alina wasn't going to wear heels. She still felt self-conscious as she rang the doorbell.

It was evening now. The sky was fading from eggshell blue to pale orange and flower-petal-pink. The air was warm though, thanks to the summer heat of the day. Alina was comfortable as she waited patiently, smoothing down her dress. She took the few moments she had to admire Aleksander's home. It wasn't white-walled and bright like her house. She'd expected that because he was a guy, of course. The outside walls were dusky grey, with black shutters and a matching, black front door. The front door was bold though, standing out with its shining golden knob. Off to the right, she spotted his garage, with that expensive car and the equally-expensive motorcycle parked outside.

He must really like the color black, she thought, but she didn't have time to think anything else before the door opened in front of her.

"Hey," Aleksander greeted her, a trace of warmth in his voice. His eyes trailed over her outfit. The glance was short enough to be chaste, but it still burned her skin. "You look beautiful."

"Oh, this?" she laughed nervously, fingering the hem of her dress. "This is, um, old...and, well..." She cleared her throat, cursing her own awkwardness. "Thank you."

He chuckled at her ruffled attitude, but not like he didn't enjoy seeing it. "I'm glad you came tonight."

"So am I," she replied with a smile. She swallowed and added, "you look nice, too."

He did. God, he did. The night-dark dress shirt he wore outlined his shoulders magnificently and his hair looked like softest velvet. Not to mention the way a couple of shirt buttons were undone to show a flash of smooth collarbone. He acknowledged her compliment with a lovely smile. "Thank you."

To prevent more staring, Alina turned her gaze back onto his house again. "You have a very nice house," she offered warmly.

His eyes glimmered as he stepped aside and gestured toward the open door. "It was a gift, from my mother, before she passed," he explained, thankfully with no lingering grief in his voice, only pride. "Would you like to see the rest of it?"

"Of course," she replied, eager despite herself. She loved looking at houses and interesting buildings. The design always gave her that inspired, artsy kind of feeling and made her want to paint. Stepping delicately over the threshold, she shared a glance with Aleksander before she passed him. Then she was inside, with gleaming floors under her feet and a ceiling like the night sky above her head. The interior of his house was just as elegantly dark as the outside, with sleek, masculine furniture. The simple, yet beautiful lamps on the coffee tables brought a lovely contrast to the dark walls. And when she glanced around even more, she was delighted to find pictures of all shapes and sizes.

The pictures were wonderful, all set in thin, ebony frames on the walls. They were vibrant with color and really stood out against the rest of the house. They were all very interesting too. She saw one of fiery autumn leaves suspended on strings around a bare tree. There was another of a black cat cocking its head at the viewer while an amber-eyed jaguar prowled in the shadows behind it. Another showed a pure white stallion walking through wispy fog, hooves raised high. She couldn't stop gawking at them.

"Did you take these?" she asked, reaching out to touch the edge of a frame.

Aleksander trailed behind her, as graceful as a shadow. "Yes," he answered. "I never told you, huh?"

"Told me what?"

"That I'm a photographer."

She grinned at him. "Really? I wouldn't have expected that."

"Why not?" he asked, tilting his head questioningly.

Alina shrugged. "I dunno," she replied. "I just never thought of you as the photographer type."

"What type did you imagine me as?" he asked with an amused chuckle.

A male model, she thought, dazed by the low smoothness of his voice. She shook the thought away. "I don't know," she answered, sliding her gaze toward the floor. "Not a photographer...I guess."

His eyes moved over her expression, as though he could read every thought she'd ever had of him. But then he moved and the moment passed. "Come on," he said, politely touching her arm. "I have to show you that great food I talked about."

Alina was embarrassed by how much she perked up at the idea of food. She allowed him to lead her down the hall toward what she assumed was a dining room. Her heartbeat was stuttering and she was anxious to see what kind of a cook Aleksander was. She was delighted to find that he kept one hand on her arm as they walked side by side. It was a light touch, but it was still sending shocks over her skin. She was reminded of that night at her house, when he had shown up beaten and bloody, and had nearly kissed her. His words still kept her up at night: I want to kiss you.

Despite herself, she shivered.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, as they emerged into the dining room. It was breathtaking. The table was long, and the edges had artistic curves and sweeps cut into it. It was pure, untainted ivory, bringing all eyes to it in the otherwise-dusky room. Tall candles sat on its surface, glowing like golden sparks and throwing dancing shade over the walls. They also illuminated the two, steaming plates waiting at either end of the table. A pair of carven, regal chairs were there as well. The entire scene was unlike anything Alina had seen on a first date.

Er, NOT a date, a get-together, she reminded herself.

"This looks fantastic," she stated, cheeks warming a little in sheepishness. "I can't believe you made this." She paused. "You DID make all this, right?" she asked playfully. "You didn't just order it from some restaurant down the street?"

"Now, why would I do that?" he asked in mock hurt.

"Because you're a guy and you can't cook," she teased. "And you wanted to impress me, maybe?" She added the last part with a small, hesitant smile.

A half-grin appeared on his flawless features. "First of all," he began importantly, "I CAN cook, and I'm a bit offended that you have no faith in men as cooks." She laughed out loud and his grin widened. "And second of all," he went on, in a quieter tone, "I do want to impress you."

The weight in his words and their closeness in the room left Alina searching for breath. Her eyes flicked to that upward twist of his mouth, and she had the crazy idea of tasting it under her lips. Then Aleksander took a step back from her and she was snapped out of her trance. He was pulling out one of those marvelously designed chairs. "After you," he said, ever polite.

Alina's heart felt light as a feather as she sat down, smoothing her dress under her. "Thank you," she mumbled shyly, looking down instead of up at him. She closed her hands over each other on her lap. As he passed her to get to his own seat, she caught a hint of his scent: a gasp of soap and something else like icy night winds. It left her lightheaded. She tried to chase it away by smelling the food in front of her instead. It was some kind of pasta, with vegetables and spices, and other things she couldn't decipher right away. But it looked and smelled absolutely delicious and she thanked God above that Aleksander was a good cook.

Once they were both sitting, Alina expected an awkward attempt at conversation. She didn't have a good deal of dating experience, but most of her first dates began awkward as hell. (actually, she'd only had ONE first date that had been set up by Genya, and it had been with Nikolai so you can guess how that went. The other guy was a blonde coworker named Mal who basically got drunk and attempted to kiss her at a party.) She lifted her fork between her fingers and waited for the discomfort to start.

"Um, so," she started, spearing a few cooked peppers with her fork, "you're really a photographer?"

"Sort of," he answered, glancing up at her. "If I get some free time, I'll take a few pictures for the gallery shop. But most of the time, I'm focused on running the business itself."

She blinked, pleasantly surprised. "You started your own business?"

He nodded, a hint of pride in his movements. "It's not very big yet," he told her. "It's mainly a photography shop, with cameras, equipment, things like that. But when I can get some pictures taken, I bring them in to sell them."

"I wish I'd known; I would've come in to buy one," she replied brightly. "Where's your store?"

"Not too far from here. It's a little deeper in town, between a restaurant and someone's bookstore. It's called Darkling Skies Photography."

She spoke the name under her breath and smiled. "I'll have to stop by sometime." Then they were back to a nice quiet, one that she didn't mind in the least. The food tasted wonderful and she had no problem taking a break from talking to eat. That didn't last long however, as she thought of something else. "What does that mean?" she asked suddenly.

He looked at her questioningly. "What does what mean?"

"Darkling skies," she replied. "I mean, I've heard the word 'darkling,' before but not very often."

A lock of coal-black hair fell softly across his eyes. "It describes something relating to growing darkness," he explained. His lips curled up at one side. "There's a picture of an eclipse on the storefront."

Alina imagined the sky falling into darkness as the moon eclipsed the sun, and suddenly, the name seemed very fitting. "An eclipse?" she echoed, recognition flashing through her. "I think I might've seen it before, on my way to the school where I teach."

He met her smile with one of his own. "What's that like anyway?" he asked. "Teaching?"

"Oh, well..." She couldn't imagine that he'd be interested in something like that, but he seemed genuinely curious. "It can be hard sometimes," she admitted. "You know, working with high school kids. They're kinda annoying, because they think I can't possibly know more than them, considering I'm in my twenties, just out of college. They think I'm one of those young, stupid teachers."

He smiled around a sip of his drink. "And are you?" he asked teasingly.

"Hey!" she exclaimed in feigned anger, but he only flashed her a knee-weakening smirk from across the table. She stuck her tongue out childishly in reply, and he laughed. A warm tingle began under her skin at the sound. She raised her fork imperiously. "I'd like to think I'm not young OR stupid."

"Well, you did let a bloody guy into your house at twelve in the morning, so..." he trailed off mischievously.

"Oh, okay then, next time I'll leave you out on the doorstep."

"Next time? You think I'll get attacked AGAIN?"

"You're kinda asking for it, riding around on a motorcycle in the middle of the night."

"What is it with you and motorcycles?"

They talked amiably for, well, Alina didn't even know how long. The time flew by in a blur. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sun sinking lower through the window. The sky was stained pink-and-orange, the clouds turned into fluffs of cotton candy. When the food was long gone and the candles began to burn out, they still stayed. The talking was just so easy with him. Alina felt as though he actually understood her and wasn't trying to humor her where other guys would. It was a refreshing change to find someone who really was interested about her life.

I like him, she decided, I really like him.

When they had finally seemed to run out of things to talk about (and it took a pretty long time), Alina let Aleksander guide her to the front door again. As they emerged out into the dying sunset, she found that the air still held the lingering warmth of summer. Even as the first stars were beginning to appear above them, the horizon burned orange around the golden orb of the sun. They started across the street together, walking close enough for their arms to brush. Alina felt a bit dizzy and tried not to show it in front of him.

"I, um," she stammered over the soft sounds of their footsteps. "I had a great time. Really."

"I'm glad," he replied, as smooth as ever. But was that a trace of delight in his voice?

She couldn't be sure, but a silly part of her hoped so. "Maybe..." she trailed off lamely, wishing she had Genya's poise and spirit when it came to guys and such. Mustering up her courage, she went on, "maybe we can do this again? Sometime?" She glanced up at him, hiding her hope.

He looked at her as though he'd been waiting for her to say that. "Of course."

His voice, and his face, and his nearness were too much. She had to drop her gaze away to catch her breath. A pang of disappointment hit her when their feet landed on the little path leading up to her door. A part of her was ready to get out of this dress, of course, and sleep. But another part of her longed to have a few more moments with him. She reached her front door and rested a hand on the knob uncertainly. Surely the night couldn't be over so fast? Clearing her throat, she offered a small smile. "Thanks for such a nice time," she began in a quiet, shy murmur. "I hope we can do it again soon. Oh, and I'll remember to stop by at your..."

Her words left her then, because even though her attention was on the door, she could sense him drawing closer from the corner of her eye. At first, her pulse sped crazily inside of her and she felt her fingers shake. But then she saw the angle of his head and realized that he was politely going to kiss her cheek. And, for some, unknown reason, Alina Starkov forced her shyness to the back of her mind and did something utterly insane.

She turned her head so that his lips touched hers.

It was barely a brush of skin, a touch so featherlight that it was hardly a kiss at all. But it startled both of them, even Alina, who had been expecting it. Aleksander drew back slightly, adorable surprise written across his features. His lips were parted the tiniest bit and for the first time since Alina had met him, he seemed speechless. She, on the other hand, felt extremely embarrassed. "I—I'm sorry," she blurted out, blushing madly across her cheeks. "I shouldn't have—"

He halted her with a touch to her cheek. "Alina."

A shudder washed through her at the way his voice formed her name, holding it gently in the night air. His hand slipped away from her cheek again and fear jolted her. She had done something wrong, he wasn't going like her anymore, she'd been too bold, she shouldn't have—

Then his hands were at her waist, pulling her close, and she had only enough time to meet his eyes before he kissed her. It was like a bolt of lightning had raced through her body, igniting her. She had never been kissed like this before. Everything about it was chaste, from the way his hands never strayed from her waist to the two inches he allowed to stay between them. But his lips were soft, softer than she'd imagined they'd be in her deepest daydreams. When it felt like he might pull back, she placed her hands at the back of his neck and closed her eyes.

The kiss deepened, slow and drunken. Alina let herself press closer to him, feeling the heat of his body sink into her. She could feel the silk of his hair at the nape of his neck under her fingertips. Tentatively, she slipped her fingers higher, threading them in the black velvet. He made a soft sound then, and it sent shivers through her. It felt much too short when she broke the kiss at last, her heartbeat going haywire in her chest. She leaned her forehead against his in the quiet. His eyes opened, showing only drowsy, storm-gray crescents underneath. His breathing was unsteady and maybe she was too pleased by that, but she couldn't help it. He was an utterly perfect mess.

"I just...wanted to say..." She'd forgotten how to speak. She raked her mind for more words. "...goodnight."

He was caught off-guard by her, she could tell. He had to think before he found an answer. "Goodnight, Alina," he managed. To his credit, there was only a tiny shake in his words. She slipped her hands from his shoulders and he let go of her. She missed his touch immediately, but he seemed to feel the same; he swallowed and took a step back. His eyes couldn't stay off of her.

With a last, exchanged smile, Alina unlocked her door and stepped back into the comfort of her home. As she closed it behind her, she paused, staring at it for a long minute. Her hand wandered upward, fingers grazing her lips where his had been moments before. She could still find his scent, that sharp iciness of night that worked its way into her. A giddy grin began to etch itself across her face. Spinning on her heel, she practically skipped down the hall to her room, humming some nonsense song.

Wait until Genya heard about this one.

-PS: I knew I was gonna have to ask you guys this eventually, so here goes: I do write a lot of, um, heated scenes in my other stories that got a lot of positive reviews. But it's probably because I'm not graphic with my writing AT ALL, unlike other sex scenes you can find on here. It's all about the love between two people for me, and I always try to make it very romantic. What I'm trying to ask here is would you guys be okay with it if the rating of this eventually changed to M? Not that it will, but just in case? Just let me know your thoughts on this and it would be very appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 6

Yard Sale

-Here you go, my lovely readers! This chapter was a lot of fun to write. You're going to get a little glimpse at Genya's life and see more Alina-Aleksander action too XD. I really appreciated all of your reviews and feedback. (dang, you were all like, "heck yeah, bring on the rated M scenes!" lol) I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! :)-

Genya heard ALL about the "get-together" a lot sooner than Alina had planned.

And it was all because of this stupid yard sale.

"Genya!" Alina called over her shoulder, hefting a heavy box of what looked like scraps of metal. "Do we need to keep this?!"

"Lemme see!" Genya, unfortunately, couldn't turn around the whole way because she was currently squished between two piles of boxes; the auburn-haired girl struggled to shove them away from her in the back of her open garage, cursing under her breath. "You know what, why don't you just tell me what's inside the box instead of me coming over?" she called.

Alina huffed out a breath and peeked inside. It still just looked like a bunch of used-up metal. "I have no idea!" she replied, shaking her head. "Metal parts?"

"Oh God, we have too many of those," came the grunted answer. "Sell 'em! Or throw them away if no one wants them!"

"Whatever you say!" Alina wandered back to the middle of Genya's wide driveway and the green, sunlit yard on either side of it. She had a beautiful house, really, all honey-colored and warm (it practically screamed GENYA). The white pillars supporting the front porch were to die for. And her yard was well-kept and lovely. That is, on NORMAL days.

That particular day, she was throwing a yard sale. Every last nicknack and spare part that could be found in the garage had been dragged out and stacked on tables in the yard. There were also quite a few old lawn chairs and lamps spread out on the driveway too. Alina had gotten the call about the sale that morning, and naturally, she'd agreed to help. She'd thought it would give her a chance to feel useful and hang out with her best friend. Which it had.

It had also gotten her stuck outside in the scorching summer heat. She'd shown up in shorts and a sky-blue tank top, the latter of which was artfully splattered with navy paint. But even though she was dressed for the weather, the sun still beat mercilessly into her. She'd stupidly forgotten a hair band and had to deal with her hair loose around her shoulders. It was already making her sweat.

Plunking the box down on a table, she sighed. "She better hope David didn't wanna keep these," she muttered, glancing over the metal parts again. David might have been an architect, but he also loved to fool around with metal and things, to see what he could make.

Footsteps sounded off to Alina's right, announcing that Genya had finally fought her way free from the garage. "Okay, I'm here!" she declared, skidding to a halt beside her friend. She was carelessly flawless in thrown-on denim shorts and a strapless, cream-colored top. She swept her long, flaming ponytail back over her shoulders and grinned widely. "Sooooo?"

"Sooooo what?" Alina asked, playing dumb.

"So, how was your D-A-T-E?" Genya demanded, pronouncing each letter succinctly. "I've been dying to know since you mentioned it on the phone this morning."

Alina shrugged because she really didn't know where to start. It also felt very nice to keep it a secret for a while longer, knowing that Genya was desperate to find out. "It wasn't really a D-A-T-E," she told Genya. "It was a 'get-together.'"

Genya, who had gone to adjusting a row of old vases, flapped one hand dismissively. "Date, get-together, what's the difference? You went over to his house, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did."

"And did he have dinner there for you?"

"Yes..."

"Was the food good?" Genya asked suddenly. She pointed at Alina for emphasis, smiling. "Cuz you know he likes you if he worked his ass off to make good food."

Alina had to smile back then and tried to hide it in a cardboard box of books. "Yeah, it was," she admitted. "It was really really good. I was surprised that he was such a good cook, actually."

"Man." Genya let her weight sink onto one hip, closing her eyes like she could imagine the scene right there. "I wish I had someone to cook good food for me. You know, David tried once, and it was awful. So that ended my experience with guys cooking for—" Then she broke off with a yelp, because a boy with tousled, brown hair had snuck up behind her and tugged lightly at her hair. "DAVID, YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME," she scolded, a pretty blush spreading up her face.

"Sorry," David chuckled, as quiet as always. An adorably shy smile curved his lips up, his coffee-colored eyes soft when he looked at his wife.

"What're you doing out here, anyway?" Genya asked pointedly, rearranging the vases again. "I thought you thought this was women's work." Alina snorted a laugh at that.

"I just wanted to say hi to my beautiful wife," David murmured, and he was so cute because he blushed shyly while he said it. His hands found themselves on Genya's hips, just high enough to be polite. When she scoffed disbelievingly at his words, he laughed; pulling her back against him, he whispered something soft in her ear that made her grin, before pushing him away again.

"Get out of here already," she said, shooing him away. "We WOMEN have to run this yard sale for you, and I'd rather have no distractions."

"Didn't realize I was a distraction to you." He smiled and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Then he was gone, heading back across the yard toward the house. He waved a polite goodbye to Alina as he did and she waved back cheerfully. She turned immediately to Genya afterward, bracing her hands on the table and leaning against it knowingly.

Genya didn't even notice at first; she was too busy staring at David's lanky form in his jeans shorts and old, gray tee. Then she glanced at Alina again. "What?" she asked, somewhat defensive under her friend's look.

"Nothing," Alina chirped. "Nothing at all." She went back to rifling through the books. Then, "...you really got it bad for your nerd, don't you?"

Genya instantly smacked Alina lightly on the arm, making her laugh out loud. "I KNEW you were gonna say something about that!"

"I have to!" Alina protested, giggling. "Who wouldn't, after witnessing THAT?" Then she squeaked because Genya smacked her again, but they were both laughing like teenagers now. Alina felt her heart warm inside of her. She loved Genya like a sister, she really did. They'd been best friends since their senior year of high school and were inseparable through college. Alina trusted her more than anyone else. She'd tell Genya anything.

And then Genya said, "but enough about me; back to you: did your mysterious, across-the-street neighbor kiss you on this 'get-together?'" Alina then decided that she wasn't going to tell Genya anything at all anymore.

"Well," she began hesitantly, "I don't...We were walking back...Do I have to talk about this now?" She set down a book and turned a pleading gaze on Genya. "You know I don't know how to deal with guys, and dating, and all of that—that—Oh my God." She broke off, feeling her heartbeat quicken inside her chest.

Genya's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? What is it?"

"Ummm..." Alina couldn't believe it. It was as though he'd been plucked right out of her thoughts and placed in front of her.

A few tables down, examining a framed picture, was Aleksander. Alina's lungs stopped working. He looked good. He wore those casual, khaki shorts that guys wore all the time, paired with a black T-shirt. The sun caught in his rakish hair and made it gleam like silk. A slight breeze coaxed it down across his eyes, but he didn't seem to care. He hadn't noticed her yet. She couldn't stop noticing him.

"Alina, explanation please," Genya droned, waving a hand in front of Alina's face to draw her attention back. "What're you staring at?"

Alina jerked her head around so that she wasn't staring anymore. "Huh?"

"You heard me." Genya tried to look where Alina had been gazing off to a second ago. "What's so interesting over there?"

Alina fought with herself for a moment. Then she sighed in defeat. "Okay, listen," she said quietly. Sidling up beside Genya, she pointed as discreetly at possible. "See that guy over there, in the black T-shirt?"

Genya followed her gaze, eyes narrowed. "The one with the black hair and reeeaally nice arms?" she asked playfully.

"Shut up, you're married," Alina deadpanned. Genya elbowed her in the side in return. Alina shook her head. "And yeah, him. He's, uh..." She speared her fingers back through her hair, a nervous habit. "He's my...across-the-street neighbor."

"WHAT? REALLY?" Genya studied him with new interest. Her amber eyes sparkled. "Wow, you did good, girl," she replied appreciatively.

"Ugh, Genya," Alina groaned.

"I'm serious, he's hot."

"You're embarrassing me."

"What're you embarrassed about? You got yourself a sexy boyfriend!"

"Okay, I'm leaving. Goodbye."

"Go get him, bestie!"

"Uggghhhh." Alina stuck her tongue out at Genya over her shoulder, but received only a wink in reply. Then she turned away, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She told herself right then and there that she was NOT going to chicken out just because Genya was there. She was going to be confident. She was not going to be awkward.

The first thing she said when she was two feet away from Aleksander was, "um." Not a great start, she thought, mentally punching herself. She cleared her throat. "...hi."

At first, Aleksander sent her a sideways glance, nearly dismissive. Then he recognized her and the smile that quirked his lips was worth all the nervousness she'd felt before. "Hi," he replied, shifting so that his body faced more toward her. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"You don't seem like the kind of girl to spend her time around yard sales," he explained. "I thought you were more of an art-festival type."

She nodded in understanding. "Yes, well, Genya's in charge of the sale and since I'm her best friend, I had to come help."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't sound like that's a good thing," he remarked, slinging his thumbs in his front pockets.

"It IS kinda hot out here," she told him, shrugging. Then she studied the picture frames he'd been looking at. "So why're you here? Shopping for more photographer stuff?"

"You could say that," he replied. His eyes shimmered when they looked at her. Alina felt a bashful grin wanting to creep up onto her face, even though he hadn't said a word about their date. It felt like he was thinking about it though.

"Alina!" The cheery voice came suddenly from behind. Alina inwardly prayed for strength. Then Genya was there, slinging her arm around Alina's shoulders and beaming brightly. "You didn't tell me you had a friend here!" she lied, pumping the happiness into her voice. She glanced between her friend and Aleksander. "Why don't you introduce us?"

I'm gonna shoot her, Alina vowed. She let out a long breath. "Aleksander," she began, smiling, "this is my best friend, Genya. Genya, this is my...friend, Aleksander."

Aleksander raised his eyebrows a fraction at the word "friend," but didn't comment on it. He showed Genya his signature half-grin, practically making her swoon. "Nice to meet you," he said politely.

"Very nice to meet you too," she replied, sounding somewhat dazed. Then she found her usual spirit again. She beamed at him, playfully shaking Alina's shoulders. "You here for the sale, or did you come to steal away my helper here?"

"Genyaaaa," Alina groaned under her breath. She received no sympathy from her best friend whatsoever.

"Both, actually," Aleksander answered, surprising her. She glanced up to find that though he was talking to Genya, his eyes were on Alina. Something she didn't recognize flickered across those stormy irises. "You think you could show me around?" he asked lightly.

Alina opened her mouth, then closed it again. Was he flirting with her?

"She'd LOVE to!" Genya decided for her. She gave Alina a playful push in the back.

"Genya!" Alina protested, digging her heels into the ground before she plowed into Aleksander. "What about your yard sale?"

"Don't worry about the yard sale!" Genya insisted. "I have everything under control. I can drag David out here if I need help. Now go and show this guy some stuff so he buys something." She sent Aleksander a teasing grin, as though saying, please just ask out my best friend on another date because she's desperate.

"But—" Alina tried to protest.

"Nope!" Genya cut her off. "No discussion. You're gonna go and show this nice man around. Okay? Okay, good! Byee!" She spun on her heel and hurried off before Alina could argue anymore. You could practically see the triumph oozing out of her as she strode up to talk with another customer that had arrived.

Alina planned on finding some kind of revenge on her best friend later. Right now, she had to figure out how to keep her heart from stopping while around Aleksander. She smiled up at him apologetically. "She can be a little...energetic," she told him.

"I can tell," he replied, amused by the relationship he'd seen between the two girls. Then a new warmth softened his expression as he looked at her. In a silent invitation, he held out one hand to her.

Her pulse started hammering inside of her, as though this one, tiny show of affection reminded her of every moment they'd had together. And it did. Fighting down a blush, she accepted his hand in hers.

Even though he'd asked her to show HIM around, he was the one that guided her between the tables. She didn't mind. It was new and nerve-racking for her, to walk around with her fingers lacing with his. His palm was surprisingly soft; for some reason, she'd imagined it being rough or callused. The places where his fingers rested between her knuckles felt warm. She hoped he couldn't tell how affected she was by him.

"So, are you, uh, shopping for photography supplies?" she asked in an attempt at conversation. "I saw you looking at the picture frames earlier.

"I just passed by a sign about the sale and thought I'd look," he told her. His shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Sometimes I'll get lucky and find a decent frame. Or even a camera."

"A camera?" she echoed disbelievingly. "Why would anyone try to sell a camera? Unless it's beaten beyond use."

"Most of the time, they are pretty bad, yeah," he admitted. "But once in a while, I'll find a fixable one."

"Do you fix them yourself?"

"It they're not too bad."

"Wow."

"Yes, I am smart enough to fix a camera, Alina."

She giggled, which she hated because of how girly it sounded, and leaned briefly against his shoulder. "No, that's not what I meant," she snickered. "I just..." She paused, studied him. "You really love photography, don't you?"

He smiled, making her breath catch. The warmth of it, along with the evident passion for what he did, was more emotion than she'd ever seen from him. "Yes."

She hummed in thought as they trailed farther into the sale, stepping over a stray box on the grass. Cocking her head at him, she asked, "what things do you photograph, exactly? Just animals and nature, or...?"

He shook his head. "No, I've photographed just about everything before. Places, animals, nature, buildings, people. Anything that inspires me."

"Oh, cool," she replied, and the appreciation was in her voice; she really did have an interest in his work, his art. She longed to see more of it. An idea sparked in her mind then, but she was unsure. She had to avert her gaze from him when she asked it: "do you photograph people for your gallery or for other things?"

"I can do it for anything," he answered. They were nearing the edge of Genya's sale, by the side of her house. The corner of it was ahead of them, along with the last set of tables. "People want them as gifts a lot of the time. I normally call in someone else myself if I want to sell the picture in the gallery."

"Oh." She bit her bottom lip, stalling. "Do you think you'd maybe want to photograph me sometime?"

There was silence for a second. "You want me to photograph you?"

She gave a head gesture that could be both yes and no. "I mean, I've been meaning to get a picture for Genya anyway; she keeps complaining about not having any recent pictures of me," she explained hurriedly. She allowed some humor into her voice then. "And trust me, I'm sick of seeing the ones she has from the high school years. Besides, I wanna see your studio. This'll give me a chance."

He gazed at her for a minute. A burst of soft laughter left him, the way wings beat the air at night. "I don't know..." he hedged, catching her off-guard.

"What?" she asked, stopping at the very edge of the yard sale and making him stop beside her. "Why?"

He slanted a sideways glance at her from under his dark lashes. "I don't think I'd be able to concentrate if it was you I was photographing."

It was the first real flirtatious thing he'd said to her that day. Her already-racing pulse started racing even faster. Trying to disguise her broad grin, she made herself look up at him. "Am I that much of a distraction to you?" she asked, scraping up some courage to say it.

The small smile he'd had began to disappear. "Yes," he admitted, in a slow exhale.

They remained like that, inches apart, her head tipped up to meet his gaze properly. They were joined together only by their entwined fingers. But it felt like that small contact was enough to charge the space between them with electricity. Alina was frozen in place. She felt as though she was standing at the edge of a canyon, peering down, and she knew she was at the brink of something incredible. Just one step forward...

She couldn't take it anymore. She opened her mouth to say something or maybe to only break the trance they were in. But before she could form any words, he had sidled closer to her, free hand coming up to her shoulder. "Don't talk," he murmured, lips and breath tickling her ear. She obeyed with shaking hands, her mouth gone dry. A tiny gasp escaped her throat as he wordlessly backed her up, until she felt the cool hardness of the house wall against her back. They were around the corner, out of sight of the yard sale and hidden by the wall of the house next to Genya's. The knowledge of that set her veins on fire.

Freeing his hand from hers, he pinned her there with forearms braced against the wall, on either side of her head. It wasn't forceful though. She had room to move away at any time. Touching their foreheads together, he listened to her trembling breaths. "How do you do this to me?" he asked, low and quiet.

"I..." She couldn't think of an answer. He was too close for her to speak without her words becoming jumbled. His alluring, lovely scent was all around her, making her mind hazy.

"You told Genya I was just your friend," he said softly, nose brushing hers. "Am I really just a friend to you?"

She wanted to reply, but one of his hands had dropped to her waist, burning her skin through her tank top. "Aren't we friends though?" she asked weakly. Her hands had found their way instinctively to his shoulders.

A rueful curve played over his lips. "I don't want to be your friend, Alina," he whispered.

It was a second before he sank his mouth onto hers.

It was different from the first time. It had the same flames, the same tingle over her nerves. But there was something deeper to it too that made her blood sing. She closed her eyes, looping her arms tighter around his neck. Aleksander kissed like he meant it this time, with only a slight hesitation. His hands were still at a polite place at her waist, but his fingers were insistently curling in her tank top. She felt the tiniest brush of his pinky fingers on bare skin above her waistband. Even that small touch sent sparks skittering up her spine. She pushed closer to him and their bodies pressed together from chests to toes. She heard the gasp he released into her mouth, his hands slipping to press into the small of her back. Everything about it was intoxicating.

"Aleksander," she breathed against his lips, twining the fingers of one hand in his satin hair.

A tiny sound came from the back of his throat and he stepped forward, backing her up into the wall again. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, making her tip her head back against the wall. Alina couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Every part of her was on fire, straining for more of him. His fingertips hooked in the hem of her tank top and slipped underneath to sear her sides with heat. He stroked his thumbs over the place above her hips and she heard the soft whimper she made. She didn't want to come unraveled for him. But her body did and she didn't know how to stop that.

She wasn't sure if this was what the start of falling in love felt like.

But maybe she'd find out.

They broke apart, both breathing hard. Aleksander looked at her from half-lidded eyes, his hair soft on her forehead. Alina could feel his body heat flooding into her, along with the hard muscle his clothes hid. She had a terrible longing to slip her hands under his shirt and feel bare skin under them. She settled for this: their shared breath, and tangle of limbs, and the slow surety that he kissed her with. She was pretty sure she could get used to this.

Unexpectedly, Aleksander smiled. "Remind me to come to yard sales more often."


	7. Chapter 7

Perfection

-Here you go, another new chapter! Thanks so much for the amazing reviews, guys. They never stop making my day :) This chapter's kinda short, but there's some more Darklina love and you get to see a bit more of his life and work. Next chapter's gonna have a bit of a time skip (nothing crazy) so you'll get to see how their relationship is changing and growing (and I can make this shorter than thirty chapters because seriously, after thirteen, I'm about done XD). But don't worry; i plan on writing more one-shots for these two even after this story's done. For now, enjoy and don't forget to leave a review! :D-

"So this is what your shop looks like."

Alina's voice echoed off the white walls of Darkling Skies Photography. She'd been meaning to visit for a while since meeting Aleksander at the yard sale and now she was finally getting a chance. The shop was closed for the evening, as it often was, but she was allowed in today because she was doing something crazy.

Today, she was going to be photographed by her neighbor...er, boyfriend. Whatever they were at this point.

Aleksander's voice came from behind as she continued to venture into the store. "You like it?"

"I love it," she replied, with feeling. It truly was a beautiful shop. The interior walls were all bright, marked by black birds in flight that had been painted onto them. One wall at the back was dominated by a huge painted-on sun in eclipse, jet-black except for the blood-red rays leaking out from the ebony disc. There were shelves with books on photography in one corner and others with cameras and supplies in another. Quite a few pictures were there too, hanging in frames from the walls or set up on tables. They were all mysterious and beautiful, like the ones in Aleksander's house. Alina stepped to a table and admired one of a raven taking off, wings spread as it burst out of glittering, golden water.

"I still can't believe that you took all of these," she remarked, tracing a fingertip down the frame's edge. "They're all incredible."

Aleksander chuckled from where he was examining a heavy-looking camera. "I'm glad you like them."

"Because my opinion is so important, right?" she joked. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to know he was rolling his eyes at her. Then she glanced over at one of the pictures on the wall and blinked. It was a person: a girl from behind, in a sheer scarlet dress that showed her back. She was looking over her shoulder with crimson lips and a cascading ripple of fiery hair. Everything in the picture was black-and-white, except for the bold shades of red. Alina's breath was taken away by the smooth lines and the girl's elegant smile. "You took that one too?" she asked, pointing.

Aleksander was near her now, having crossed the store to stand beside her with his camera. At her question, he glanced up. "Yes," he answered, brow furrowing slightly in puzzlement.

She looked at it again. "Are you...Can you really make me look like that?" She was thinking of her boring, brown eyes and dull, mousy hair.

He looked at her like he couldn't believe what she was saying, gray eyes flicking over her face. "Alina," he said, serious, but soft, "you don't need me to make you look any more beautiful than you are now."

The words melted their way through her, right down to her toes. He could always surprise her like that, take her off-guard with fond words and his smooth voice. She found that she had to keep her gaze on her sandals instead of him. "Well, I...Thank you."

She heard him step closer a second before soft lips brushed her cheek. "You're welcome," he murmured, breath tickling her skin. When she glanced up at him in shock, he just gave her a lovely half-smile. Then he stepped back again, giving her space. "Now," he went on, "do you want to get started?" He held up his camera questioningly.

"Y—yeah," she stammered. She had to stop herself from staring at him (which was hard because those dark jeans he wore were distractingly tight). "Where, um, where should I...?"

"We can start over there," he suggested, pointing.

Peering over her shoulder, she spotted a plush, white chair near the back wall; it was stylish and comfy-looking, placed next to a table of picture frames, She wouldn't mind reclining in a chair like that while a hot guy took pictures of her. A smile spread over her face at the thought. "Sure."

They walked over together. It took only a few minutes to make it to that wall. Every minute, her arm brushed his and her thoughts flew away like scattered birds.

"All right," he began, stopping at the edge of the black-and-white carpet placed under the chair, "this isn't going to be hard at all. All you have to do is sit down, do what feels comfortable, and I'll take the pictures."

"Oh, okay." She tugged self-consciously at the hem of her navy blouse. "Is there a certain way you want me to sit?"

He gestured invitingly at the chair. "You can sit any way you like."

"Hmm..." Stepping over to the chair, she sat awkwardly and crossed a leg over the other. "How's this?"

"Fine," he answered with an amused chuckle. "But you look a little tense. Just relax."

"Okay." Making herself take a deep breath, she tried to imagine that this was her living room. A place that she felt comfortable in. She leaned back against the chair and propped her elbow up on an arm, placing her chin on her hand. Nervously, she sent him a glance. "Is this good?"

"Great," he replied, making her smile. He lifted his camera up to his face. "Can you turn your face toward the front windows, but still look at me?"

She did as he asked, looking at him sideways with a slight curve still on her lips. Bending down a bit with his camera, he angled the lens at her. "Perfect." She heard a few clicks as he zoomed in or whatever he was doing; she took the opportunity to admire the line of his shoulders under his gray T-shirt. With a snap, the picture was taken and he was straightening up. "Okay, now you can—"

"I'm way ahead of you," she joked. With exaggerated flair, she hung her feet over the arm of the chair and flopped her head back onto the other arm. She beamed at him cheerfully and was delighted when he laughed.

"Well, at least you're comfortable..." he trailed off sarcastically, and she made a face at him. He snapped a couple pictures before peering at her from around the camera. "Can I...?"

"Oh, sure." She thought he was going to adjust her position or something like it. Her heartbeat fluttered as he strode to her side and let his camera hang around his neck.

"Lift your head a bit." Alina obeyed, raising her head up. Her stomach flip-flopped when his fingers brushed over the back of her neck. Gently, he coaxed her hair out from under her. "Lay your head back down." She did, and he draped her hair over the chair's arm. His fingers trailed through it for a moment. "Perfect," he said again, though this time in a murmur.

Alina shivered, body tingling, and ached to feel his fingers in her hair again. She watched as he backed up and prepared for another picture. She tried for her sweetest smile and heard the clacking of a few pictures being taken. Then a mischievous smirk ghosted over his mouth. "So, your friend Genya," he stated. "...she seems nice."

The way he said it made her snort out a laugh. To her surprise, he took a picture. "Hey!" she protested. "I thought these were supposed to be GOOD pictures. Don't get one of me laughing."

"That's the best one, though."

"No way, lemme see!"

"Only the photographer can touch the camera."

"Uh-huh, right, hand it over."

"Not gonna happen, Alina."

"That's what YOU think."

By that point, she'd gotten enough bravery to push up off the chair and face him. She considered her choices for about two seconds. Then she rushed him. The way his eyes widened was priceless. She swiped for the camera and he twisted away from her, a grin sneaking itself onto his face.

"Give me that!" she commanded, reaching around him as he turned his back on her.

"Get your own!" was his snickered reply. It surprised her. She'd never expected this giddiness from him or the small breaks she was seeing in his calm composure.

"Aleksander, I will tackle you to the floor right here," she threatened.

"Go ahead. You still aren't getting this camera." He snatched it off of his neck and held it farther away from her. Her arms were stretched around his waist, reaching for it. She grumbled in frustration and a burst of silken laughter escaped from him.

"Oh, you little—" Alina scrambled to get around him at the camera. He shifted and backed away from her, holding it tauntingly above his head. Dammit, he was too freaking tall for her to reach. It only made her laugh harder though, to know how foolish she looked, jumping up and down to grab for it. Her cheer must have been contagious. Aleksander had never grinned the way he did now, a dazzling grin that could melt glaciers. And dear God, he had dimples. His shoes caught on the carpet as she chased him back onto it. She heard the thump as his knees hit the chair. Before she knew it, he was tripping backward and snagging her waist as some kind of anchor.

Which resulted in a tangle of limbs on the chair, Alina seated rather awkwardly on his lap.

Well, she thought, that happened.

Raising her head from his chest, she was met with his sooty, gray gaze. They were both breathless, his chest rising under her palms. His hands had landed on the small of her back, keeping her from falling off the chair. The camera lay forgotten in the corner of the cushion.

She stared at him and he stared at her. His eyes drank her in like she was a statue of gold, perfection.

In that moment, with tangled hair and rumpled clothes, she felt perfect in his arms.

Reaching up, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers dancing over her forehead. They continued down her cheek, featherlight on her skin. "Alina," he murmured, in that quiet way that only he said her name. She sighed sharply when he cradled her jaw and stroked his thumb over her lower lip. His gaze grew foggy with something she wanted to call desire. "Can I...?" he asked again, in a breath.

"Yes," she whispered.

Leaning up, he surprised her again. Instead of kissing her, he trailed his lips along the sweep of her jaw. The softness made her eyelids fall shut and her hands tremble on his chest. His lips reached her ear, teasing the curve with small kisses, and a little sound escaped her. Hands wandering down her back, he nosed her hair away and moved on to her neck. Alina's body melted against his. She'd forgotten that she hadn't wanted to come undone for him.

"Alina," he breathed again, but in a much different way than before. He kissed down the curve of her neck, urging her to tip her head to let him. Reaching the place above her shoulder, he lightly teased her skin with his teeth. Alina gave a tiny whimper before she could stop herself. Her fingers curled into the front of his T-shirt, bunching the fabric between them. She felt his hands press into the small of her back with a new need.

He kissed her neck again and the first heated brush of his tongue made her shiver all the way down to her toes. Her hand grabbed for the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair. Nuzzling her neck, he huffed out a short, strained breath. It fanned over her collarbone and made want rear up inside of her.

"Aleksander," she whispered in his ear. She ran her fingers through the tousled velvet of his hair.

A shiver tensed his shoulders. "What are you doing to me?" he asked, almost to himself. His mumble vibrated against her neck, where his mouth still rested.

"You've never fallen in love before?" she asked in return.

He inhaled shakily at her words and raised his head from her shoulder. Looking at her again, he skimmed his hands up and down her arms. "You should leave," he murmured.

She blinked. "Why?"

He smiled ruefully. "Because of the way I am around you."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not used to giving in to people, Alina. But you make me want to give in. To you."

She studied him for a long minute. Then a smirk of her own curled her mouth. Sweet and short, she placed a kiss on his mouth. She loved how she'd startled him, made his fingers tighten at her waist. Resting their foreheads together, she whispered cheekily, "then I guess you'll have to learn to give in."


	8. Chapter 8

Wicked Ways: Part One

-New chapter is here! I'm so happy to have such wonderful readers. You guys are great and the reviews always make me smile :) Hope you enjoy this one too! Let me know what you thought and maybe what you want in the next chapter! Until next time!-

Alina had said that she wasn't really the kind of person that liked parties and stuff like that. But when Genya threw parties, it was required of all of her friends to show up. Otherwise, you'd hear about it later, for sure.

So that was why, one Friday night, Alina was staring in the mirror at a white, billowy blouse and a ridiculous denim skirt. Her face screwed up in hesitation. "Genya, I don't know..."

"Oh, what're you talking about?" Genya asked from her place behind Alina. They were in one of the ivory bathrooms of her beautiful house, both putting final touches on their outfits. Or, well, Genya was putting the final touches on ALINA'S outfit. "I think you look great!" she exclaimed, teeth flashing white in her smile.

"Great?" Alina repeated disbelievingly.

"Great," Genya confirmed. "You look amazing, trust me, Alina."

Alina grunted noncommittally, reaching up to fuss with the curled strands drifting from her bun. "I think this skirt's too short."

"Nonsense. It's no shorter than mine." To prove her point, Genya gave a little twirl, showing off the way her flowing skirt spun about her legs. Like Alina's it stopped above her knees, but wasn't obnoxiously short (otherwise, David would probably have a stroke). It was striking blue, and paired wonderfully with her white top; she wore a stylish, sleeveless jean jacket over that, her hair rippling like flame over her shoulders. Alina paled next to her.

"Why're you even throwing a party, Genya?" Alina asked, as Genya worked on clasping a necklace around Alina's neck for her. "Is there a special occasion or something?"

Genya shrugged. "I just want to have a nice night with some old friends."

"By old friends, do you mean friends and then neighbors you barely know?"

"Well, it's hardly a party if I don't invite SOME of the neighbors."

"Uh-huh. You always were the popular one of the group."

"I thought that was Zoya, but thanks anyway, honey." Genya winked at Alina playfully in the mirror, receiving an eye-roll in reply. "Annnd there you go! Pretty, right?" She finished up the necklace that hung like a sapphire teardrop at Alina's chest. It matched the smaller stones that glinted at each ear.

"They're very pretty," she agreed, despite her lack of confidence earlier. The jewelry WAS very nice; she just wasn't sure that it looked all that nice on a dull, brown-haired girl like her. But then again, she tended to think like that when in the shining presence of Genya.

"All right, done!" Genya announced, after snapping a few gleaming bracelets on her wrists. "Let's get this party started! C'mon!" With a flick of her hair, she spun out the door, followed by a slightly-less-enthusiastic Alina. Genya's sleek, black shoes tapped on the hardwood floors as she led the way down the hall toward her living room. It was a fairly wide, open space, with lush furniture and high ceilings. She already had food set out on coffee tables and bottles of different drinks on the kitchen counter. As she swept into the room, she was greeted with the ever-sarcastic voice of Zoya.

"I hope you have some decent music," Zoya remarked, perched regally on a stool by the counter. "Because I've looked through your playlist before, Gen, and it definitely needed some work..." Her long, midnight-blue nails were dancing idly over a bowl of crackers. A shining wave of ebony hair fell down her back.

"Relax, Zoya," Genya teased, "I'm sure the music will be up to your ridiculously high standards tonight."

"Mm-hm," Zoya hummed, selecting a cracker and placing it carefully past scarlet lips.

Genya sent Alina a look over her shoulder. "As easy to please as always," she joked, not loud enough for Zoya to hear.

"Uh-huh." Alina completely understood what it took to make Zoya happy. There really wasn't much that could pull that off.

As Genya sorted through bottles of Coke and Sprite, Zoya regarded Alina through smoky blue eyes. "So, are you getting your date to join the party tonight?" she asked lightly.

Alina opened her mouth to reply, but Genya laughed suddenly, cutting her off. "Oh, I doubt it. David hates parties and anything to do with them. He'll probably be working all night."

"I was talking to ALINA," Zoya told her pointedly.

"...oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, then." Genya set down a stack of cups and turned to Alina. "IS he coming?"

Alina dropped her eyes down and fiddled shyly with her blouse sleeves. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I did ask him to come, but he said he might be busy." She shrugged.

"Busy?" Genya echoed.

"How busy can you be at a photography studio?" Zoya asked flatly.

Alina tossed her hands up in exasperation. "I dunno, busy enough. What, you think he's lying?" Both Genya and Zoya gave her equal, eyebrow-raised expressions. Alina huffed out a breath. "Really, we've been dating for a week and a half. I think he'd tell me if he just didn't want to go."

"Or maybe he STILL doesn't want to hurt your feelings," Genya put in, grinning brightly.

Zoya scoffed. "Oh, please. If he wanted to hurt her feelings, he would." She flicked a crumb off the fabric of her royal blue top. "He's a man, after all."

"Ouch," Genya grimaced dramatically. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why the sudden distrust in all men?"

"I've always distrusted men."

"Not to the point where you're warning our little Alina here about their wicked ways."

Zoya arched a brow. "'Wicked ways?'"

Alina frowned. "'Little Alina?'"

"You know what I'm talking about," Genya brushed off, waving her hands at their words. She leaned on the counter and narrowed her eyes at Zoya suspiciously. "Did something happen, Zoya? Something with a man, maybe...?"

Zoya snapped a cracker between her fingers. "In his dreams."

"In WHOSE dreams?"

Alina spoke up in protest. "I'm not 'little,' you know."

"Is it someone we know?" Genya asked eagerly.

"No way!" Zoya answered.

"Ugh," Alina muttered. "Did you guys forget I was here?"

"Is it Nikolai?"

"GOD NO, NEVER."

"She's lying!" Genya declared, pointing at Zoya from across the table and beaming widely. "Look at her face!"

Zoya growled and unsuccessfully tried to hide her blush behind the bowl of crackers. "I'm NOT lying," she argued. "I'd date a dog before I did anything with that...that...cocky know-it-all."

"Wow," Alina commented, sharing a glance with Genya. "I think she really likes him."

"Tell me about it," Genya agreed.

"Aggghh, you two are impossible!" Zoya plunked the bowl back down and stood up. Shooting the two a glare, she stalked from the room without another word. Her face was still flushed, fingers smoothing her hair down.

Alina and Genya exchanged wide-eyes glances. "She's totally got it bad for him," Genya stated.

"Oh, absolutely."

They both giggled like teenage girls. It felt daring and sneaky to tease a headstrong girl like Zoya...which of course, made it great fun. Alina felt younger around those two (not that she was that old, but still), as though they were still best friends in high school. She knew, somehow, that she'd never lose that feeling with them. They were more than best friends; they were like sisters and just as inseparable. Even if Zoya had to be knocked down a peg or two sometimes.

As Genya resumed her meticulous organization of the drinks, Alina snuck off to a side hall branching off from the kitchen and living room. Slipping up to a discreet closet door, she bent inside to snag her iPhone from where she'd stashed her purse. It took her only a moment to scroll through her contacts and find the name she was looking for.

TO: ALEKSANDER

Party's starting soon. Just wondering if ur coming (Genya and Zoya definitely wan :P)

Does that look too little-girlish? she wondered, squinting at her screen in the dim room. She considered canceling the message, but it was too late. She could only sigh at her own dumb thoughts and wait for his reply. It didn't take too long before her phone buzzed in her grasp.

TO: ALINA

I'm sure they do. I don't think I've met Zoya yet though. And I'm trying to finish up here; there's a little girl getting pictures taken for school and she will not stop touching everything in the studio.

Alina broke into a smile as she read it. Yes, there were many people who used perfect grammar while texting, but only Aleksander would use a semicolon in his messages. She should've expected it, really. Shaking her head, she texted back quickly.

TO: ALEKSANDER

Well, cant u just kick her out? Haha, I'm kidding. But you should stop by, just 4 a little while. It would b a lot more fun with u here...

Anyway, I gtg. Lots more party stuff 2 take care of! C u soon (maybe?) ;)

"Ugghhh, did I really just put a winky face?" she groaned, bumping herself on the forehead with her phone. "He's going to think I'm so lame, oh my god..." But when her phone vibrated again, it was evident that Aleksander didn't mind one bit.

TO:ALINA

If you insist... ;)

See you soon, Alina

He put a winky face, she thought, beaming like an idiot at her phone. He'd actually put a winky face. She was practically glowing with happiness as she stuffed her phone back into her purse again. How could someone be hot and adorable at the same time?

"It's just not fair," she muttered to herself, zipping her purse shut. "Not fair at all."

She pretty much skipped back out of the closet again.

-x-x-x-


	9. Chapter 9

Wicked Ways: Part Two

-yes, I'm finally writing again! Sorry guys, this thing called school decided to ruin my life, haha. But I've been writing again, so here's your next chapter! And I have some other news too: I've started writing my own book too, a collection of short stories focused around a couple and their friends (cuz that's what I'm best at). Not sure if I'll get it published anytime soon, cuz I have a LOT of work to do, but it's still exciting! (and partly why I haven't been updating this. sorry XD) Anyway, enough from me. Enjoy!

PS: there will be a part three to the Wicked Ways chapters...

Well, Alina had said that she didn't really like parties and it was certainly showing. Because there was a decent crowd of people in Genya's house right now and all she was doing was hanging out by the snacks.

Figures, she thought as she looked out at the people in the living room, Genya invited the neighbors and now I know no one.

She was DEFINITELY the popular one tonight. Sure.

Sitting on a stool in Genya's kitchen, one hand in a bowl of pretzels and the other propping up her chin, she wasn't exactly the life of the party. She watched absently at the lively group chatting away in the living room, most of them nursing cups of soda, all of them smiling. They were having a good time, talking with each other and with Genya. The sparky redhead was weaving through the crowd, grinning broadly and sharing words with people as she passed. As always, she was vibrant, the center of attention. How nice it must be to be her.

"Wish I could be like that," Alina mumbled to herself wistfully.

"Be like what?"

The voice came unexpectedly, making her jump. Turning her head, she found herself face-to-face with hazel eyes and wavy, golden hair. Her eyebrows shot up and a wide smile stretched itself across her face. "Nikolai!" she greeted cheerfully. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Wouldn't miss the biggest party of the summer," Nikolai replied with the slash of a smirk. He leaned back against the counter, bracing his elbows up on it. "Or, well, the only party of the summer."

She laughed understandingly. "This neighborhood isn't all that exciting, huh?"

"Not especially, no." He grinned his crooked grin, looking exceptionally handsome in jeans and black Converse shoes. His T-shirt was plain white, but had a V-neck that showed off the line of his collarbone. Not that Alina was attracted to him in THAT way. But she knew someone who was, and she kept scanning the crowd for any sign of Zoya.

"So, how's it been with you?" she asked, hoping for some pleasant conversation. Anything for her to not feel so lonely or lame. "Still in line for the Lantsov crown?"

"Ugh." Nikolai shook his head. "I don't even want to talk about that. My dad keeps dragging me up to that damn skyscraper in the city, like he wants to train me up now before he hands me over to a bunch of men in suits that only know my last name. Not that I'm gonna inherit any part of the company, not while my brother's alive."

"Oh, right, HIM," she joked, stretching over to the snag a cup and a bottle of Coke.

"Yeah, HIM."

"Remember when he walked in on that date Genya set up for us?"

"And he flirted with you right in front of me, on account of how stupidly drunk he was."

"Ooh, yeah, I forgot about the drunk part. It was that bad, huh?"

"Not the best first date I've ever been on." His eyes glimmered playfully. "After that nightmare, you could've told me that I didn't have a chance unless I got a motorcycle."

"Hey!" She smacked him lightly on the shoulder with the back of a hand, but he only snickered at her. "I didn't know I was going to fall for my neighbor, okay?"

He cocked his head curiously. Some of the play faded away from his expression. "You really think you're falling for him then?"

"Oh. Um." Alina tapped the edge of her cup with a finger, watching the light reflecting on the liquid inside. She hadn't taken too much time to think about Aleksander in this way before. "I dunno. Maybe."

"Too soon to tell, huh?" he asked sympathetically.

"I guess..." she trailed off, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "But it's not like I don't have a lot of time to figure it out, you know."

"True." He nodded in agreement. He seemed about to add something else, when a sudden flash of ebony snagged both his and Alina's attentions. At that moment, Zoya strutted past the kitchen, her scowl firmly pointed straight ahead. Apparently, someone had gotten on her bad side (that was pretty easy to do). She swept past in a blur of denim jeans and sparking eyes, without a spared glance toward the two at the kitchen counter. Alina was amused by the way Nikolai stared after her dumbly. "Where's she going?"

"I dunno." Alina took an innocent sip of her drink. "Someone must've annoyed her, as usual."

"Uh-huh," he answered distractedly, leaning over a bit to see which hallway she'd disappeared down.

Alina fought the urge to giggle. It was so rare to see Nikolai flustered like this, but incredibly adorable. She decided to take the role of matchmaker for a moment. "Why don't you go see what's wrong?"

He jerked out of his trance then. "Go ask ZOYA what's wrong? That's like, suicide. She'll blow up and possibly murder me."

"Yeah, but you're her friend. So she can't murder you. Plus, I don't think she wants to deal with the police questioning."

"Eh, still not thinking it's worth it." He glanced away, but now his cockiness felt more forced than anything.

Alina smiled and hid it behind her drink. He WANTED to go ask her what was wrong. He wanted to care. "Okay then," she sang. "Whatever you say..."

For a couple of seconds, he glanced between her and the hall where Zoya had vanished. He seemed to be fighting with himself. Then, finally, "FINNNE. I'll go."

"Yes!"

He pointed at her sternly. "But ONLY because you want me to."

"Of course," she agreed sweetly.

"Okay." He kept his firm gaze fixed on her as he strode past and out of the kitchen. In the next instant, he was gone, down that hallway where Zoya was. Alina sipped smugly from her drink again. Matchmaking skills were definitely improving for her.

She sat there, nursing her drink, for ten minutes longer. The low hum of chatter came in from the living room, cut through with bursts of laughter. She thought she heard Genya's voice quite a few times, as happy as always. That girl was always so comfortable in every situation. Alina felt another rustle of loneliness in her heart. She'd been lighthearted while helping Nikolai, but now that he was gone, she knew she didn't really fit in at parties. Maybe she should find Genya and let her know Alina was leaving.

She was just about to do that, sliding off of her chair, when suddenly a new voice jolted her senses. And not in the good way.

"Alina! I didn't expect to see you here!"

Alina froze. She'd recognize that cocky drawl anywhere. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath, then she reluctantly turned around. A smile was firmly plastered on her face as she met the ice-blue gaze of Malyen Oretsev. "Malyen," she greeted with fake politeness. "I didn't know I'd run into you here."

"Call me Mal." Mal placed a hand on the counter, letting it hold his weight as he smirked at her. His light blonde hair was just as careless and his attitude just as arrogant as the last time she saw him. Unfortunately, she saw him quite often, as he taught history at the high school she worked at.

"Mal," she corrected herself awkwardly, "what're you doing here? I mean, I didn't know that Genya knew you."

Mal shrugged. "I live close to her and she invited a bunch of her neighbors," he explained. "So I was one of them on the list."

"Ah." She'd have to have a talk with Genya and her inviting techniques real soon.

"Lucky, huh?" he asked, fingering the hem of his sky-blue tee, seemingly a nervous habit.

"Lucky?" she repeated confusedly.

"Well, if I hadn't gotten invited," he replied, shifting closer, "I wouldn't have run into you." His smirk became that much more smug.

"Oh. Well, um. You're a good friend." She didn't know how else to respond.

He arched a brow at her. "I don't think we're just friends; I never thought we were just friends. Not after seeing each other every day for so long." He seemed so damn smug for figuring all this out.

Alina was beginning to feel that she should get out of here. This was starting to feel like an older party, in someone else's house, but with the same person hitting on her with alcohol on his breath. She set her Coke down. "Listen, Mal," she began, "I know that you might think I feel something for you, as in, something more than friendship, but...I don't. I'm sorry, but I don't. It just wouldn't wor—"

"Sure it would work," he cut her off confidently. He swaggered a few steps closer to her, leaving about five strained inches between them. "Like I said, we see each other every day. I know that that does something to you..."

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. "I WORK at the same school. It's not like I choose to see you every day of the week; it's part of my job."

"So?" he scoffed.

"So, that's different from me wanting to be around you all the time."

"I don't think it is." He started moving forward with each word now, forcing her to back up. The expression on his face was so damn arrogant, it made her want to punch him. "I mean, at first, that's what it was to me too. Just a coincidence that we got to run into each other so much. But now, I realize that I'm looking forward to going to work to see you." He didn't stop advancing, even when she neared a kitchen wall. "And I think you feel the same."

"Mal, I'm sorry," she repeated, a broken record. "But you're wrong."

"You don't have to act like that...No one's around to see..."

"I'm serious."

"And besides, not much is gonna come out of you being all shy around me..."

"Stop."

"No."

Her back hit the wall and she halted abruptly. Dread sank into her stomach like a cold stone. Mal grinned, planting his hands on either side of her head and crowding in on her. This close, she could smell that he had indeed been drinking a bit and she could see the gilded sweeps of his eyelashes. Everything in her recoiled away from him. He was four inches taller than her and stronger. How was she going to get out of this?

For the first time, she wished she'd brought Aleksander with her.

-x-x-x-

-Nikolai-

He found her in one of the back rooms, probably David's office, considering all the clutter. Metal parts in boxes on the floor, the desk at the back with papers strewn across it, pictures of elaborate building sketches on the walls. It simply screamed 'geeky architect inventor.' Nikolai nearly smiled at the thought. But his smile vanished, as did his humor, when he saw her.

Zoya sat on the desk chair, legs crossed, fingers combing irritably through her hair. She perched there like an icy queen, with those blue eyes and wild hair. The dark look on her face only increased the effect. Her long legs were encased in dark denim and her sleeveless top matched the stormy color of her eyes. The only thing offsetting the girlishness of such an outfit were her black boots. Nikolai stayed in the doorway, where she hadn't noticed him yet. He wasn't sure if he dared to set foot in there with her like this. She was clearly annoyed at someone. He didn't want to turn that someone into him.

Sighing, he made a very stupid decision. "Someone looks ticked."

Her gaze snapped to him instantly. Something lit there, but whether it was more anger or something else, he didn't know. "Maybe it's because I am ticked," she retorted.

He walked into the room with his hands in his pockets, like he owned the place. Because he was Nikolai and that was what Nikolai did. He made an entrance. "And who had the honor of disturbing her highness tonight?" he asked loftily.

"Right now? Cocky assholes like you."

"Ow. Right in the ego."

"Oh, shut up. Your ego's asking for it."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's big enough to be seen from space. It's practically begging to be shot at."

"Wow." He mock-grimaced at her. "You on your period or...?"

"Ugh, you're such a guy!" she snapped, glaring at him. "Of course you'd assume I'm pissed because of my period. That's all you guys ever think, right? 'Oh, she looks pretty ticked, must be her PERIOD.'"

He knew he shouldn't have smiled, but her impression of him was too great. "What am I supposed to think?" he asked defensively. "That you're really so irritable all the time that EVERYONE gets on your nerves?"

"Yes!" she returned firmly. "That's EXACTLY what you should think!"

He rolled his eyes at her. "C'mon, really?" he asked, as though she was a child that had acted up. Her face blazed and he quickly hurried on, "okay, okay, what got you so fired up on this particular night?"

She held the edges of the chair and looked pointedly away from him. "Some idiot spilled her drink on my arm. And then she turned around and I realized that she was one of my customers, the really bitchy kind that always have SOME kind of problem with their haircut. So what does she do? She starts going on and on about what I messed up that time right in front of everyone!" She threw her arms up in frustration. "I couldn't believe it. Everyone was looking at me with all this freakin' pity and I couldn't take it."

"Why didn't you just blow up at her?" he asked.

She sent him a black look. "Why, because that's what I always do?" she challenged.

"Um." He paused, pretending to think. Nikolai could be a real asshole sometimes, because of his monstrous sarcasm. "Yeah. Yeah, you pretty much always do."

"Whatever." She went back to glowering at her shoes.

He felt something like resentment burn in his heart and another emotion that he couldn't name. Look at her, perched like a damn princess who hadn't gotten her way. He was sick of it. Why did she have to be so guarded and closed-off all the time? Why couldn't she just let someone in? "You would do that, wouldn't you?" he asked, and she glanced sharply up at him. "Storm off and throw a tantrum where no one can see you."

Her mouth dropped open at his words, eyes growing round. "Excuse me?" she asked dangerously.

"And then you take your anger out on your friends, because they end up being the ones that followed you to make sure you're okay," he went on as though she hadn't spoken. "Do you honestly not care about us that much?"

"You—!" She leapt up from the chair in a flash and stomped right up to him, nose to nose. The anger flaring in her eyes hit him almost as much as the gasp of her perfume did. "I care about my friends! More than YOU'RE going to understand! And I shouldn't have to explain myself to you at all!"

He kept right on frowning at her, because he knew it was annoying the hell out of her. He couldn't help it. He hated it when she was like this, acting as though the world was against her. She didn't even know what that felt like. She had someone who cared about her right in front of her. He tried hard to stay mad at her as she shouted at him, but it was difficult; it was always difficult, with her looking so damn beautiful, it physically hurt. Her, brazen Zoya, with her wild, raven hair and those awful, heartstopping blue eyes. He HATED that he couldn't stay mad at her, not even now as she yelled at him. It made him clench his fists at his sides and want to do something stupid.

So he did.

"And if you ever think you can speak to me like that again, I'll—" Zoya didn't get any further because Nikolai had grabbed her by the waist and pressed his mouth to hers. Her eyes shot open wide, body frozen rigid in astonishment. She remained like this, in shock, for a good ten seconds. But Nikolai didn't back down. He teased her mouth with tiny kisses, urging her to kiss him back. His hands were chaste at her waist, but the way his fingers curled into her top was not. At last, with a half-frustrated, half-weakened growl, Zoya closed her eyes.

Nikolai felt every defense he had start to crumble. Zoya was angling her head, fingertips slipping to his jaw; she kissed him in earnest now, with the kind of urgent, almost-anger he had expected from her. This girl. This stunning girl was going to be the death of him. He didn't realize what he was doing when he pressed his hands to the small of her back. They were forced flush against each other now, her startled gasp caught between them. The kiss sank deeper and her fingers travelled up to tangle in his hair. He could feel the gorgeous curves of her body against him and smell her perfume, until it made him dizzy. Nothing had ever done this to him before.

"Zoya," he breathed out, surprising himself as he backed her into the room. She didn't stumble once, until her back met the edge of the desk and she had to stop. She tightened her hold on his hair, hauling his mouth harder onto hers. One of her legs hooked around his to keep him close and the tiniest whimper escaped his throat. He tried slipping his hands to her sides, fingers tracing her ribcage, and searching for his control again. But she was too smart for him; her hands had dropped to slip up under his shirt and were kneading up the stretch of his back. Her touch was cool, but burned his skin with heat anyway, until her palms rested beneath his shoulder blades. He heard her sigh sharply. Her nails dug into his skin as she ran them down along his spine. Nikolai hated the way he moaned into her mouth.

She pulled away then, seemingly satisfied with the sounds she'd dragged from him. Her half-lidded eyes met his drunken hazel ones and he saw the smugness there. Got you, her slight smile said to him. He wanted to curse at himself. He wanted to taste that smile again. He watched like a fool as her lips parted and she leaned upward, until he could feel her whisper in his ear. "That all you got, Lantsov?"

He wasn't going to be able to say no to her ever again.


	10. Chapter 10

Wicked Ways: Part Three

-here it is! Part three! :) Sorry for such a long wait; I've been writing other stories a lot lately, haha. Sometimes, I'm honestly not sure if I'll finish this one (so sorry guys) but I'll certainly try. It's been a while since I read the Grisha Trilogy, so my interest is fading a little. But anyway, here's your chapter. Thank you for the wonderful responses and I hope you like it :)-

Trapped against a wall by Malyen Oretsev was not the way Alina had wanted to spend her night. The smell of his alcohol-stained breath washed over her and she wished with all of her heart that someone would show up to save her. Unfortunately, no one did. The kitchen was dim and everyone else was in the living room, having a great time. They laughed and talked and gossiped with Genya. All distracting things to do that kept them away from Alina's predicament. It made her heart drop down to her toes. She was going to have to get out of this on her own.

"Mal," she tried saying as firmly as possible, "please get off of me."

Mal just grinned his stupid, cocky grin. Shifting his weight, he brought himself closer to her. "I don't think so," he replied darkly. "And, for the record, I don't think you really want me to either."

"Trust me," she replied, pressing back farther against the wall. "I want you to."

He just rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Alina. You're starting to act like you don't want me at all."

"I don't—"

"I know that Genya's here and she's your friend. But she won't interrupt us; she's too busy with her party."

I know, Alina thought with an inward grimace. She shook her head. "Mal, I don't think you're getting it. I don't...like you the way you think I do. I really don't."

He exhaled roughly, losing some of his good mood at her rejections. But he still didn't move away from pinning her there and he still didn't back down. Instead, he asked something that made the room seem to darken even more. "Who's Aleksander?"

She froze. His tone was accusatory, as though she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. She swallowed. "What?"

"I said, who's Aleksander?" he asked again, slower this time.

"How do you know about him?"

He bobbed his head toward the living room. "Genya was mentioning something about him earlier. Something about him being your neighbor."

Alina was silent.

"And someone you were seeing recently," he added, the first traces of anger creeping into his words.

Alina felt a flare of her own anger. How dare he question her as though he had some kind of say in who she was with? He was nothing to her. She shouldn't have to answer to him. "So what if I am seeing him?" she asked, lifting her chin. "It's not like I have some sort of obligation to you, because you and I are NOT TOGETHER."

Mal glanced up at the ceiling, a sign that he was getting more irritated by the second. "I can't believe you'd just give yourself to another person like that," he snapped. "When I've been here the whole time. I guess all the times I helped you get settled in a new school didn't matter, or all the times I helped grade your damn papers for you." He smiled a twisted, unhappy smile. "Nice guys don't matter to you, huh?"

"That's not it at all!" she retorted. "I am seeing someone else, Mal, and it has nothing to do with you or anything that you've done. I've only ever seen you as a—"

"How many times have you been over to his place, huh?" he demanded, cutting her off.

She stared at him, taken aback by what he was implying. "Excuse me?"

"Well, since he obviously must be more important than me," Mal replied bitterly, "I just think I should know if he's getting something more from you." His blue eyes darkened as they trailed over her. "Something that I want."

Okay, now this was feeling dangerous. Alina shrank under the way his eyes touched every inch of her. "That's none of your business," she muttered, heat rising in her face at his accusations. She had never done anything that he was thinking of with Aleksander, but it still made her blush furiously under Mal's gaze.

In the next second, she felt herself jump as Mal's hand unexpectedly closed over her waist. The other still kept her up against the wall. "C'mon, Alina," he said in a quieter voice now, one that spelled trouble. She could see the dark intent in his eyes. "I know you don't really want him. There'll always be me, at work, running into you in town, here. We live too close to each other to ignore this." His fingers were nearly painful where they dug into her side.

Alina batted his hand away with more force than she though she could muster. "Mal, no," she warned. But he was bending toward her and it made her instinctively plant a hand on his chest to stop him. He got the wrong idea entirely.

"Don't try to say no to me anymore," he replied, hand going right back to her side. His thumb was against her stomach. "I'm tired of this. I can make you see what it'd be like..."

"Don't—" It was all she seemed capable of saying. She couldn't move; her hands on his chest were the only thing keeping him a safer distance away. That same horrible grin appeared on his face and she resisted the urge to slap it off of him. Getting violent would only make this worse. His hand was on her ribcage and moving upward, toward her chest. Alina felt the first real surges of fear in her heart.

"She told you to stop." The sudden voice was very calm and matter-of-fact when it said this. Which was completely at odds with the hands that fisted in Mal's collar and hauled him off of Alina. Mal only had time to yelp before he was slammed up against the refrigerator. His wide eyes were met with the smoldering, quartz-gray ones of Aleksander. Aleksander's body was as taut as a bowstring as he glowered into Mal's face. "Alina," he said, not looking away from the cowering blonde, "are you okay?"

Alina was so shocked by the turn of events that she almost forgot what to say. "I—I...He..."

"I didn't hurt her!" Mal protested loudly. "We were—OW!" He broke off with a yell as Aleksander pulled him back and shoved him into the fridge again.

"Alina?" Aleksander asked again. "Did he lay a hand on you? Don't lie to me."

She didn't want to tell him, because to tell him would be to admit something shameful. Another man had tried to make a move on her and she had to confess that she hadn't been able to push him away. She didn't want to bear that in front of Aleksander. "H—he didn't exactly—"

"Alina." Aleksander did glance at her now. She saw the first flickers of concern in his expression. "Did he touch you?"

She lowered her gaze. "Yes."

Mal's eyebrows shot into his hair. His mouth opened and closed as he searched for words, faced with Aleksander's newly-kindled glare burning into him. "We were just TALKING! It wasn't like I tried to DO anything to her!"

"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" Aleksander asked icily. He hiked Mal up higher by his neckline, until only the blonde's toes touched the ground. "You had her up against a wall from what I saw. So what exactly did you have in mind?"

Outrage lit in Mal's face. "I don't have to answer you! She's just a friend!"

"Not to me," Aleksander growled.

"We were fooling around, big deal!"

"And you'll never fool around with her again. Not in front of me, not anywhere else." Aleksander tightened his grip on Mal's shirt threateningly. "If you ever touch her again, I'll make you regret it. Understand me?"

Mal's jaw clenched, as though he was about to argue. But his gaze flicked over the man in front of him, as though wondering if he had the strength to take him on. Evidently, he'd reached a decision, because he closed his eyes briefly. "...I understand."

Grudgingly, Aleksander let go. He took a few steps back, putting needed space between them. Mal pushed away from the fridge, tugging the hem of his shirt back into place. An ashamed flush rose in his face and he refused to even look at Alina as he turned away. Still taken off-guard, Alina looked away from him and back at Aleksander. Her lips parted, but no words would surface to cover how grateful she was. She must've waited too long because he blinked at her. "Are you all right?" he asked, approaching her slowly.

"Yes, I'm..." she trailed off, glimpsing motion over his shoulder. Her eyes grew round as she saw Mal, dark-faced and angry, swinging a fist at Aleksander's head. "Aleksander!"

She'd never known human reflexes could be so fast. In a single movement, Aleksander ducked the strike and snatched Mal's wrist from the air. Twisting it around behind Mal's back, he forced the blonde right up into the fridge again, this time with his face mashed against the metal. "Ow—Shit!" Mal hissed in pain as his arm was hiked up his back. Wincing, he struggled to scowl over his shoulder.

Aleksander wasn't even breathing hard. His voice was just as cool when he spoke. "You ever try that again, and I'll do a lot worse than this. You haven't seen me angry yet and I'm not nearly this nice then." Satisfied with the pain in Mal's expression, he released the other man for the second time that night. Only this time, he watched the blonde with fists at his sides. He didn't look away until Mal had slunk out of the kitchen, holding his hurt arm.

Something told Alina she wouldn't be having any trouble from him again anytime soon. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as soon as he was out of the room. Her gaze rose and met Aleksander's. There were three feet between them in the kitchen. Suddenly, it felt like too much and too little at the same time. He'd just beaten up her jerky coworker for her. He deserved some sort of gratitude from her.

She was just opening her mouth to say something, when the arrival of footsteps made her stop. "Alina!" Genya exclaimed, as she burst into the kitchen in a flurry of red-hair-and-jean-jacket. "What happened? I heard shouting." Her round, amber eyes flitted from her friend to the other person in the room. There was caution in how she looked over his black shirt and leather jacket.

"It was nothing," Alina explained quickly. "Mal just showed up, that's all, but Aleks—"

"MAL?" Genya repeated. She brought a hand up to her forehead. "Oh, crap, I'm such an idiot. Did I invite him? Is he a neighbor? Dammit, Alina, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine!" Alina had to laugh at Genya's scrambling; they were best friends. Genya didn't have to beg for Alina's forgiveness. "I think he learned his lesson."

"What d'you mean?" Genya wrinkled her nose, puzzled.

"Um." Alina glanced over at Aleksander and bit her lip over a knowing smile. The look of mischief that flashed across his face was absolutely hot. "Aleksander took care of it."

Genya glanced back and forth between them again, this time with a growing smile. "Ohhhh, he did, huh?" she asked, and Alina inwardly facepalmed. "And uh, what're you guys doing now?"

"NOTHING," Alina answered firmly. "None of your business."

"Ooh, none of my business?" Genya waggled her eyebrows suggestively, turning so that Aleksander wouldn't see. "I see how it is."

"Genya."

"No, no, don't let me interrupt you two or anything..."

"GENYA."

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" Genya giggled, giving Alina a push on the arm. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't getting jumped in here." Her smile was happy and brilliant. "I'll go make sure Mal doesn't crash my party again. You guys can be alone and do...whatever it is you two do."

"ALL RIGHT YOU CAN LEAVE NOW," Alina said meaningfully. She shot Genya a look, which was met with a wink. With a last, little wave at Aleksander, Genya spun away to go back to her party. That girl just wouldn't stop being the energetic, bubbly girl she always was (and she'd never stop teasing the crap out of Alina).

As soon as the redhead was gone, Aleksander raised his eyebrows at Alina. "I see she hasn't changed since the last time I saw her," he remarked.

"Yeah," Alina replied, rubbing at the back of her neck. "Same old Genya." Then she glanced up at him and sighed. "Listen, um, thank you. For the whole Mal thing. I don't know why he thinks what he thinks sometimes." She tried for an apologetic tone. "Sorry you had to shove him into a fridge."

"Don't apologize," Aleksander replied. He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and a truly wicked smirk twisted those kissable lips. "I enjoyed it."

Alina snorted, automatically raising a hand up to her face. "I'm pretty sure HE didn't," she chortled.

"Good. He deserved it, the bastard."

"Language," she chastised jokingly. "But yes, he did deserve it."

"Damn right." God, those dimples were showing again. There was a hint of seriousness though, when he said, "no one should touch you the way he did."

She fiddled with a loose wave of hair that had drifted from her bun, feeling strangely light, and flirtatious, and like he was inching his way under her skin. But in a good way. Definitely a good way. "Except you?" she asked. The simple question felt daring.

The way he looked at her felt daring too, a way that made her want to lose herself in him. "Except me," he agreed, his voice reminding her of the gray silk his eyes were.

She wanted to kiss him. Right there, in Genya's kitchen, where everyone else could see. She wanted to pin him against the counter and kiss him. She settled for studying her shoes shyly, as usual.

"How'd you find your way over here anyway?" she asked. "I know I texted you directions, but my direction skills are pretty bad."

"Yes, they are," he replied, and she rolled her eyes at him. "But I managed." He examined the warm interior of Genya's house around them. "She has a nice house," he commented.

"Not exactly your taste, though, right?" she guessed.

"How'd you know?"

"Nothing's black in here."

He shook his head, mouth turning up. "You know me better than I thought."

"I do, don't I?" she asked, good-humored and in a greater mood now that he was here.

The warmth that appeared in his gaze made it that much better. Shifting to the side, he gestured toward the group of happy people in the living room. "Genya likes parties?"

"Oh yeah," she replied, crossing over to lean against the counter beside him. "Especially the big kind with neighbors she barely knows and music."

"I can tell." He surveyed the dim lighting and dancing couples in that quiet way of his.

"Yeah." Alina couldn't help the wistfulness she took on. "She's always enjoyed things like this."

"And you don't?"

"Well..." Absently, she picked at the counter with a fingernail, unable to play with her hair since it was pulled up. "I'm not...like Genya, in a lot of ways. I'm not as social as she is and I've always had a hard time with confidence. She used to get all the guys in school. You should've seen her."

"You didn't 'get any guys' either?" he asked, half-light, half-disbelief.

"No." She shook her head, because of course she hadn't. Who wanted to date the mousy-haired, nerdy girl? No one.

"You just had a guy throw himself at you tonight," he stated flatly.

"Okay, but that's different."

"You just had two guys fight over you in a kitchen."

"Yeah, but, I mean—" she broke off with a little laugh. "I get what you mean, but...back then, this kind of thing never would've happened."

He cocked his head at her. "Why not?"

Shrugging, she turned her face away from him. "I was a gigantic geek," she replied, blushing. "All I did was read and draw, and when I wasn't reading or drawing, I was studying. I was the good girl." She let out a bitter sound from the back of her throat. "No one wants the good girl. No one wanted me."

There was a soft touch on her chin, prompting her to turn her head toward him. Her heartbeat thudded as his slender fingers gently held her chin. He was against the counter too now, putting them only inches from each other. He gazed at her intently, strands of pitch-black hair falling into his eyes. "I want you," he murmured.

The air around them seemed heavier all of a sudden or charged with lightning. The people in the background faded to dull forms and shapes against a backdrop of Genya's golden lamplight. The music too, sounded muffled in Alina's ears. She could only see Aleksander, only hear the quiet breaths between them, only aware of his fingers still touching her chin. Her gaze flicked to his mouth. She knew he could see her and where she was looking, but she didn't care. She was just now being filled with this new feeling, dark and welcoming. Maybe she was ready to admit it now: she wanted him.

It was his black-silk voice that drew her halfway out of her trance. "Do you want to dance?"

At first, she stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Huh?"

His head bobbed toward where Genya's party pulsed in the large living room. "It's a slow song," he explained. "I thought you'd like to dance."

"Oh." She took a moment to listen. Soft and sinful notes rang in the air from Genya's expensive speakers: piano. It was certainly a slow song, and the romantic kind too. Couples were pairing up like it was nothing, creating a makeshift dance floor in the center of the room while lone dancers hung around the edges. Apparently, David had arrived because there was a bit of a scuffle when Genya attempted to drag him over to dance with her (he wasn't much of a dancer.) Alina understood his reluctance completely.

"I don't know," she hedged. "I'm not very good at dancing."

"You don't have to be," Aleksander replied. "I'll guide you through it."

"You can dance?" It was hard to focus on the conversation. His fingers had moved to her jaw, thumb slipping over her cheek.

"Of course I can dance," he answered easily. "I don't make a habit of it though, when there's no one to dance with."

"Well..." Her fingers played nervously with the necklace at her collarbone. "...okay." His hand left her cheek then and he held it out to her invitingly. Praying that she didn't make a fool of herself, she took his hand in hers.

He led her politely out to the living room, among the other dancers. A few of them passed curious glances toward the two, but most were busy, with girls leaning heads on boys' shoulders. Genya spotted the new couple and winked over David's shoulder.

Alina had no idea what to expect when Aleksander placed his hands chastely at her waist and pulled her in. She set her hands carefully at his shoulders, the leather of his jacket cool under her touch. He smells like leather, she thought dizzily, leather and night.

"Follow me," he whispered in her ear, breath fanning on her skin and prompting a shiver. He moved first and she followed, trying to learn the motions quickly. She did well enough, moving slowly in his arms with only a couple awkward fumbles of her feet. She was staring at her shoes the entire time, intent on getting it right. But once she was more comfortable, she lifted her eyes; they unintentionally ran over him, from the boots, to his hip-hugging jeans, all the way up to his collarbone. Blinking, she saw that his shirt had inched up ever so slightly, revealing a tiny flash of ink. It was right by his hipbone, barely visible above his waistband. Aleksander had a tattoo? She'd have to ask him about that. Right now, she ached to see it.

"You're not bad at all," he remarked. A generous compliment, considering she was two steps away from sucking horribly.

"Please. You're doing way better than me." Which was true. He danced like he'd been doing it forever and moved so fluidly, that she was both awed and jealous.

"It just takes practice."

"This is the most practice I've ever gotten."

"Never went to any school dances?" he asked, linking his fingers together behind her back.

She shrugged. "I didn't see the point of embarrassing myself in public."

"Yet, here you are," he pointed out, emphasizing his words by taking her hand and spinning her gently.

She laughed as she twirled once, before being guided back into him. They were closer than before, chests nearly brushing. His touch at her back felt different, as though there was more pressure there to hold her close. The tips of her fingers combed into his hair at the nape of his neck. A hand climbed up her back in return, pulling her even closer. She was fascinated by the fog in his eyes and the way they couldn't stay off of her. It still surprised her to see that, to know that he wanted her.

I wonder if I deserve someone like him, she thought. But she didn't dare to mention her doubts.

For now, she was content here, dancing in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11

-I am so so sorry I had to take such a long break from this! But I recently started reading over it again and I think I'd like to give this series another chance. Please be patient with me, guys, I didn't mean to leave this laying around for so long. I hope you enjoy it just as much. The characters might be a little out of character now, and my writing style might have changed since the last time you read this. But it's still the same story, lol.

Also, a small warning, some chapters coming up may be rated M, but don't panic, people; I'm not graphic at all in anything I write, so it's not gonna be unbearable for you lol.

Again, I'm sorry, but here, read this :)-

-Thunder-

She remembered the first time she almost forgot herself with him.

It was a particularly rainy day in the middle of April. The two had been dating for a while and Alina felt more comfortable with him than she'd ever felt. He was quickly becoming the person she confided in when she needed someone, or the person she called over when her favorite movie came on. Not that she had forgotten Genya, of course. Genya wouldn't let Alina forget her, even if she tried. But there was just...something about Aleksander that Alina couldn't get out of her mind. It was that captivating thing she'd noticed the first time she saw him, when it was the middle of a cold night and he'd just stepped off his motorcycle.

She was so screwed.

On THAT day, she had just gotten back from another one of their growingly frequent dates. It wasn't anything fancy; literally just a short drive down to a little pastry shop just opening in town that she'd been wanting to check out. But it was nice outside that morning and she wanted to look nice to match, so she'd put on a summery red dress that ended above her knees. Miraculously, her hair had behaved for her, so she was in a pretty good mood.

They made it halfway out of the car in front of her house when it started raining.

She should've known this would happen.

"Where did THIS come from?!" she squeaked, tripping over her own foot as she stumbled out of the car. The bottoms of her sandals flopped onto the wet stone of her walkway. Jesus, it was already soaked, as were the flowers gathered around her porch, and her HAIR.

"I think it's called rain," he told her sarcastically, car door swinging shut as he rounded the hood.

Alina threw him a glare over her shoulder. "Oh, ha ha, you're so hilarious," she scoffed. "You'd think you—Oh my god!" Spluttering, she spit a strand of drenched hair out of her mouth.

The dark sound of his laughter made her turn to give him another smoldering look, but it was wiped right off her face when she saw him. The downpour had made short work of his hair and his grey tee was soaked through. Alina had seen him shirtless before, so it shouldn't have been much of a surprise to see the hard muscle outlined by his shirt.

...but damn, how could she NOT notice?

Wiping dripping water out of his eyes, Aleksander blinked at her through rain-dusted lashes. "Your hair is beautiful today," he said, deadpan as he examined her ruined curls.

"All right, that's it, I'm going in!" she announced. As if punctuating her words, a sudden rumble of thunder shook the ground. She turned wide eyes on Aleksander. "Yeah, I'm outta here." Without waiting for an answer, she bolted for the house. Her sandals slapped the stone walkway and she could hear the footsteps of Aleksander close behind her. Halfway there, she realized the true ridiculousness of the situation and burst into laughter. She stumbled over a jutting stone, shoulder meeting Aleksander's side. Giggling out an apology, she beamed up at him as he steadied her with a hand on her back. His answering smile made her feel warm inside.

She was still laughing giddily when they thumped up her porch steps together, then pushed through the door and into the calm of the house. Snorting, she straightened her wet dress as Aleksander shut the door behind them. At once, the hissing of rain and distant growling thunder were muffled to a pleasant hum. Alina covered her silly grin with a hand as Aleksander glanced first out the rain-streaked window, then at her. "What's so funny?" he asked in that quiet way of his, the corner of his mouth tilted up.

She shook her head. "I don't know," she chortled. "Oh—You're dripping on my floor."

"So are you." He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it into a charming mess. Alina felt her heartbeat skip.

"Here, I can get you a towel," she offered, fighting down the last of her foolish giggles. Spinning away, she took the few steps it took to reach the kitchen and grabbed a towel from beside the sink. How stupid she must've looked, laughing for no reason at—

When she turned around, he was almost right in front of her, only five inches separating them. She gasped slightly, freezing as though she was caught in doing something wrong. There was just...this look in his eyes and that rare smile on his lips, only softer. "I think you need it more than I do," he said. She almost jumped when his fingers curled around the towel in her grasp and took it from her. Her hands remained uncertain in midair as he raised the towel to her face. Her eyes closed on their own when he brushed the droplets from her forehead and down her nose.

She didn't know what she was doing. The brush of the towel against her skin was sending something coiling inside of her, almost as if it were his fingers touching her instead. She felt it slip across her cheeks, drying her skin. But then it was like Aleksander himself forgot what he was supposed to do. Alina bit back a gasp when she felt the towel graze her neck, skimming down along it until it reached her collarbone. She forced herself to swallow, to breathe. Then she was hit with a wave of his scent, wonderful and rain-soaked, and his nose brushed her jaw.

"Oh..." It left her in a breath, as his lips found the side of her neck. Her hands moved on their own, one at the back of his neck and the other on his side. She could feel the smooth flex of muscle beneath his shirt and a shudder ran down the length of her spine. He pushed her damp hair back and kissed the water from her skin. She heard his quiet murmur of her name and now she opened her eyes because she needed to see his face. Feeling the coolness of water under her fingertips, she cupped his jaw and gently pulled his head back to meet his gaze. Her heartbeat sped up, if that was even possible at this point.

He looked like the night and the sky, black hair rumpled, grey eyes foggy. The way he looked at her could've made other girls' knees give out and his hands were barely touching her waist. Everything in him was sure and beautiful and asking for permission. Alina found that she had no trouble giving that; she surprised herself when she grabbed his collar and yanked his mouth onto hers.

She heard the pitiful gasp she made when he kissed her, hard and demanding, and heard the soft sound he barely let himself make. Suddenly, his grip on her waist was strong, pulling their bodies together in the little kitchen. He was kissing her senseless, forgetting his soft control. Alina didn't mind, not even when he bit her lip just a bit too hard. She wanted him, right there, in that single moment, and that was all that mattered in her world right then.

She stretched up on tiptoe to meet him, arms looped around his neck and fingers clutching the back of his shirt. It was still wet, both of them were, but she didn't care. All she cared about were her fingers now under his neckline, on bare damp skin, and his answering whimper against her mouth. She felt the muscle in his back bend and his grasp tightening on the back of her dress. It floored her.

Never, even in her wildest fantasies, had she imagined that he would be desperate for her too.

Bold, she curled her fingers and dug her nails into his back. "God, Alina, I could just—" He broke off, reaching down to pick her up with hands on the backs of her thighs. Alina's blood sang in her veins as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Raking it off his face, she pressed their mouths together again, intent on making him just as breathless as she was. Her legs were secure around his waist as he blindly carried her from the kitchen to the living room and paused, hovering unsurely over the couch. "Where—?"

"Here," she gasped, taking two fistfuls of his shirt and dragging him down to the couch with her. Her back met the cushions first and the softness soaked up the moisture from her skin. It was the perfect contrast to the hard lines of Aleksander above her, trapping her between his forearms, their legs a tangle of skin and denim. Alina wasn't thinking anymore. Her mind was a fog of him, of his touch, of his everything. She hooked her legs around his hips without pausing to think of her dress bunched up around her waist or how he must see her, acting this way. She just met his gasping kisses with her own and clawed his shirt up his back.

She missed his lips on hers for the moment it took for him to strip out of his shirt. But then he was at her neck again and she let her head fall back. Curling wet strands of her hair spread out across the cushions as he kissed down the line of her throat, taking his time. When he reached her collarbone, he slipped his hands under her back and sat up. Curled around his lap, she closed her eyes and let him run his teeth down the curve of her neck. She let her hands smooth over the expanse of his back as he did, biting her tongue to keep from moaning out loud.

To her surprise, it was Aleksander who moaned, mouth on her shoulder. His fingers hooked around the straps of her dress and her bra, peeling them down off her shoulder to reach more of her skin. Alina's head spun. Nobody had ever kissed her there before. Her arm shot out for an anchor, hand digging into the side of the couch. "Aleks—" she managed breathily.

"Let me," he mumbled into her shoulder, arms wrapping around her as rain pelted the roof overhead. She felt fingers at her dress, finding the zipper there. The action didn't fully register until he pulled it downward, opening the back of her dress. Then cool air whisked across her back and a twinge of nerves washed through her.

"W—wait," she stammered.

Aleksander froze immediately. His hands were at the small of her back, fingers on bare skin in the gap of her dress. "Did I—?" he started, then broke off, swallowing. Lifting his head, he searched her expression through dazed eyes. "I'm sorry if I was too—"

"No, it's fine," she said hurriedly. "But I, um...I don't wanna rush into anything. If that's okay with you."

He rested his forehead against hers, noses brushing together. "Of course," he murmured. "I'd never push you into anything, Alina."

Alina smoothed a hand over his hair, feeling the strands beginning to curl with rainwater. Her heart suddenly felt warm and she had to drop her gaze from his. "Sometimes," she whispered, "I don't know if I deserve you."

"You don't," he agreed and she stared at him in shock. Then he pulled her farther into his lap, dropping a kiss on her jaw and burying his face in her neck. "You deserve more than me."

It was such an affectionate gesture that at first, she wasn't sure what to do. His words swam in her head, making her unbelievably happy. The only thing she could think to do was hug him back, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent. Their clothes were still rumpled and her dress strap hung uselessly off her shoulder, but they'd fix all of that later. Right now, she wanted the simplicity of his arms around her, with rain pounding away on the rooftop.

-X-X-X-

That was probably when she realized she was in love with him.


	12. Chapter 12

-Aww, thank you for such wonderful reviews, guys. I'm so relieved that you're still reading this and I can't wait to show you more of these characters.

This is a nearly-rated-M chapter that I might change the rating for... Warning you all right now. XD

And it's a little glimpse into how Zoya and Nikolai are doing after that heated scene at Genya's party ;)-

-Give In-

Part of Zoya found what she was doing to be extremely stupid. Another part of her was grudgingly giddy, but she shoved that part so far down inside, it was hardly a flicker.

She was standing outside of Nikolai Lantsov's door. She had on better makeup than usual, had curled her hair, and was wearing boots with damn heels on them.

What the hell was she doing?

Knock on the door and get it over with, she ordered herself. The sooner this was done, the better. Exhaling raggedly, she knocked on the door with sharp motions. Then, like the silly silly girl she was apparently being today, she fluffed her hair around her shoulders and checked to make sure her red tank top showed just enough skin at her waist. "Ugh, I'm turning into a slut," she muttered despairingly, glaring at the centimeter of her stomach that was visible.

Then the door swung open, revealing a lazy Nikolai leaning against the doorframe in dark jeans. In ONLY dark jeans. God, this was the worst idea ever. He raised his eyebrows, half-surprise, half-smugness. "Zoya," he greeted in that grand way of his. "I thought you never wanted to see me ag—"

"Shut up," she cut in. "I'd rather be anywhere but here right now."

"And yet, here you are."

"I'm going to punch you."

"Wow. All right then, if that's what you want." Shrugging, he tossed her a drowsy smirk. "Go ahead then."

Did he work out? He had to work out. He had a freaking six-pack and she couldn't stop looking at his arms. Gritting her teeth, she held up a jacket in one hand like she was afraid it was contagious. "You left this at Genya's after the party."

To her extreme annoyance, he laughed at her. "That's why you came all the way over here?" he asked. "To give me back my jacket?"

"Yes," she bit out.

"You must really care." Batting ridiculous puppy-eyes at her, he reached out as though to take the jacket. Then, like the idiot he was, he switched to tug at a lock of her hair. "Did you do something different with your hair?"

"Don't touch me. No, I didn't." She jerked away from him. "Do you want your jacket or not?"

He folded his arms over his chest, hazel eyes glimmering. "No."

"Then what do you want that's making you act like such an ass?"

"You."

It struck her speechless for a second. She stared at him, jacket hanging limply in her grasp. He just looked back, quiet and waiting. His hair was shower-damp and tousled like spilled honey. He was nothing but tanned skin and toned muscle, and she wanted to kiss every inch of him. Mortified at her own thoughts, she fought down a blush. Shut up, Zoya! she yelled at herself. She just needed to give him his jacket and get out of here before she did something REALLY stupid.

Like push him up against the wall and kiss the cocky smirk off his face.

"Just—Take it," she snapped, jabbing the jacket at him.

His eyes went from the jacket dangling in front of him to her arm holding it, then gradually traveled to her shoulders, her hips, everywhere. She nearly shivered when his gaze lingered on the length of her legs showing from her denim shorts. He still didn't take his jacket back. He just let his eyes wander back up to her face, suddenly much too serious for her liking. "Why do you always have to run away?" he asked softly. She stiffened. His voice was tired, but with a trace of an emotion she could only call longing. "You're proud and confident, and I get that. But you're also afraid. You're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. So why're you afraid of being close to me?"

She stood there dumbly. She thought of some witty comeback she could throw at him before marching off, but she never said it. She was still standing there and she was still holding his stupid jacket. Why had she even come here? What did she think was going to happen?

He sighed and she heard the resignation in it. Then he was reaching for the jacket and she saw that look on his face, that empty look that meant he was giving up. And dammit, she hated when he looked like that.

She did the dumbest thing a human being could ever do. She shoved his jacket into his chest and darted up to crush her lips against his. She felt the shock of it rattling through him, his body freezing. Then, God, he was melting, hands on her waist and mouth soft under hers. Anger and want warred inside of her. Just to even think that she'd fallen for cocky rich Lantsov—

"How's this for afraid?" she growled into his lips, pushing him right over the threshold and into the house. He didn't even stumble; as a matter of fact, he PULLED her in with him, hands clenching in the back of her top in helpless want. Not glancing back, she kicked the door shut with her heel and took charge. She tangled her fingers in his hair and backed him up against a wall.

"Zoya," he breathed out, burying one of his hands in her hair and tilting her head back. She thought about telling him to get his fingers out of her hair because she'd worked hard on it, but then his mouth was on her neck and she decided to let it go for now. She only let a sigh escape her as he kissed down her throat, making his way back toward her ear. His breath fanned across it and she stifled a shudder.

"Don't think that this means I like you," she muttered, and he laughed breathlessly.

"Love, I'd never think such a thing," he murmured. Playful, he bit down gently on the curve of her ear and ran his hands down her back. Flames lit inside of her at his touch and she had the sudden overwhelming ache to feel him, skin on skin.

It came as a surprise when he pushed off the wall and spun, trapping her against it instead. He rested his forearms on either side of her head, caging her in. Her body missed his touch more than she thought it should. She met his gaze with hers, hazel into blue. His eyes were half-lidded and much too soft, as though he was afraid of breaking her. "Stop staring like a weirdo," she quipped, hooking her fingers in his belt loops to pull him closer. Leaning her head back, she caught his bottom lip in her teeth and bit down hard enough to cause a sting of pain.

Nikolai whimpered and Zoya swore it was the hottest sound she'd ever heard. His mouth was crushed to hers in the next moment, stealing the breath right out of her. He curled his fingers around the back of her knee and hiked her leg up around his waist; at the same time, he snuck his leg between hers and lifted his knee high enough to make her gasp. "Don't—" she tried, but her body reacted on its own to the touch and her head dropped to hit the wall. She felt him kissing along her shoulder as he grabbed her hips, pulling her into him. She closed her eyes, swearing under her breath when her hips moved on their own, grinding against his. Dammit, this was not how she wanted to be remembered: as the girl that fell apart for him with only a few touches.

"Don't what?" he asked, voice husky and muffled against her collarbone. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Do you want ME to stop?" she shot back. And she pressed her hands to his back pockets and hauled their bodies flush together. She could feel all of him, everything skin and muscle, and she could also feel him tremble when she touched him. She glared at him from under curling black hair, content with the silent plea in his gaze. Smirking evilly, she ran her nails lightly up his back. "That all you got, Lantsov?"

Just the reminder of the night at Genya's party was enough for him. He became a different person, more unhinged than any version of Nikolai she'd seen before. He had her pinned against the wall again in a second, mouth back on her collarbone with new need. Zoya clung to his shoulder blades as his tongue ran along the hollow at the base of her throat and knew right then that she was going to be just as desperate as he was. Curling her fingers in his hair, she yanked him forward to kiss him again, hot and right and so damn addicting. One of his hands seared her side through her top, trying to get as close as possible to her. She couldn't tell where his other hand was until she felt it slip down her stomach and join his knee between her legs. As soon as he touched her there, she was done.

"Dammit, Nikolai," she growled, grabbing him by the back of the neck and hauling him away from the hallway. As she backed up farther into the unknown rooms, she pulled his mouth down onto hers and moaned at the first taste of him. They stumbled from the hall to a wide living room, the carpet giving way underneath her boots. His hands were all over her, smoothing over her hips, then under her shirt, splaying across her back. She wasn't sure she was even breathing anymore when she guided him to a black leather couch.

Nikolai broke from the kiss with a desperate breath of air. "What do you want t—?"

"Everything," she interrupted. It was the first time she'd slipped and shown him a glimpse of how he unraveled her. But she erased it with a smirk that had him mewling from the sight and shoved him back onto the couch. Nikolai wasn't the only one who could make someone swoon with a single look. Zoya didn't take her eyes from him, holding him in place as she reached for the hem of her tank top. Her heartbeat fluttered, but she thought it better to just do it instead of telling him she'd never taken her shirt off in front of a guy before. So she peeled the fabric over her head and left it on his floor, right next to a forgotten jacket.

Idiotically, the first thing she wondered was if she looked good enough for him. OF COURSE she would think that, being a girl and all, though she hated admitting that she was insecure with those hazel eyes on her. But she didn't show it once. Picking her hair up off her shoulders, she straddled his hips and circled her arms loosely around his neck. "What're you looking at?" she asked, grinning a devil's grin and enjoying the way Nikolai barely stifled a tiny noise.

"Oh—Nothing," he answered, clipped. His gaze struggled in vain to stay on her face and not wander to the new bare skin she was showing. Clearing his throat, he fingered the strap of her bra. "Did you know red is my favorite color?"

"Really?" She trailed her fingertips through the short hair at the nape of his neck. "I always thought you said it was green."

"Yes, but I think I may have to rethink that."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because you look edible in red."

Zoya tried not to smile, she really did. But when was the last time a guy had called her edible to her face? Never. Resting her forehead against his, she nipped his upper lip. "I have to say, as much I hate you," she began softly, "you're quite the charmer, Lantsov."

His smile was soft as the fingers tracing down her shoulder blades. "Do you call me that to annoy me?"

"Mmm," she hummed, as he leaned in to touch his lips to her shoulder. Then she realized that wasn't a real answer. "Yes."

He chuckled and it vibrated against her skin. "You don't hate me." His index finger hooked around her bra strap and dragged it down off her shoulder. She made a small sound as he kissed across her shoulder, exploring her skin.

"How do you know?" she challenged weakly.

"Because you're still here."

She had no reply to that and besides, she had far better things to be thinking about. Like his mouth moving along the swell of her breasts above her bra or his fingers curling around the clasp at the back. No one had touched her there before and the hints of pleasure dancing under her skin told her to let him. She wanted to let him have all of her. She tossed her head back when she felt the clasp of her bra come undone and sighed when his hands grazed her ribcage. But the moment they slipped higher, brushing the underside of her bra, a lightning bolt of panic brought all of her senses back.

"Stop," she stammered out, seizing his wrists. But she didn't have to. Nikolai had frozen as soon as she spoke, looking up into her face with concern.

"What?"

Zoya could feel the flush crawling up from her chest to her neck and she commanded it to stop. It was very hard when the last piece of clothing covering her chest was slipping down and Nikolai's fingertips were barely touching the sides of her breasts. She wasn't sure if she felt relieved or disappointed when he lowered his hands to a more chaste position on her sides.

Then, eloquent as she was, she blurted it out. "I'm not having sex with you."

At first, he just looked at her. Then he bit down on a laugh and gave her his Lantsov smirk. "Now, Zoya, what about this situation makes you think I want to have sex with you?" he asked, all teasing.

All of her past anger at him threatened to come rushing back. "Maybe because you're taking my clothes off?"

"Hey, you started taking them off first. I was just helping."

"You insufferable son of a—"

He cut her off with a kiss pressed to her mouth, hard and fleeting. Pulling back, he left her breathless, but still annoyed. "Zoya," he said, and the sudden gentleness there made her pause before calling him a rude name. "I would never do anything you weren't ready for yet. I wouldn't take advantage of you, not now and not ever." Then he bit his lip to mask a cocky grin. "As much as you might beg me to."

Now it was Zoya's turn to stare at him. It had never occurred to her that someone as conceited as Nikolai wouldn't expect sex after she'd just taken her shirt off. Hell, she would've expected any other guy to be grumbling irritably at her right now and demanding that she give him what he wanted.

Something new and warm flickered in her chest. She traced the ridge of his ear with her finger and watched his eyelids droop in bliss. If this weren't only their second time together like this, she might've let him take all of her, push him down onto the couch and make him hers. But it was far too early for that. Besides, this conversation was already too serious.

She scoffed. "In your dreams. I'm never begging you for anything."

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Mmhm."

"We'll see about that." Then he took his hands from her, as though he was about to get up. "Now, if you'd get off my lap, I could go and—"

"Where do you think you're going?" She planted her hands on his chest and halted him. His brow furrowed in confusion, then his face blanked entirely when she shrugged out of her bra. She didn't let herself feel any insecurities now, not when she would see his hands trembling with want to touch her. "We're just getting started."

She swore, the best moment of her life was when Nikolai's eyes went round as saucers and—dear god—he blushed. "But I thought you said—" He broke off with a groan as she yanked him against her, her breasts pressed to his chest. He was lithe and solid and deliciously hot everywhere his skin touched hers. She buried her own whimper in the strong bend of his shoulder.

"I said we couldn't have sex," she whispered in his ear, listening to his shaky breaths. "But there's a lot we can do before that happens, isn't there?"

Judging by the way he practically threw her to the couch, he agreed.


	13. Chapter 13

-Heyo! Thank you guys for the reviews, they made my day! This is another multi-part story which actually switches points of view a little bit between some of our favorite characters. Each part focuses on a different character and what they're dealing with in their relationships, but that's all I'm gonna say about it! I changed the rating to M, so if you don't like, don't read and please, don't leave any rude comments. I tried not to be very graphic here. Part one is all about our cutest couple, Genya and David :)-

-Tease, Part One-

Now, David thought that his wife was beautiful all the time. That was what a husband was supposed to do and even when he hadn't been her husband yet, he had found her breathtaking. Nothing in this world could compare to her.

But secretly, he found that times like this were the times that she looked most beautiful.

Genya was stretched out in bed at the moment, half-under the covers. The fiery ripples of her hair splayed out across the pillow and part of David's chest. In wonder, he twirled a stray strand around his finger as he watched her sleep. The morning outside was pale with rain-dappled sunlight from a recent storm and the lighting looked extraordinary on Genya's creamy skin. David traced the lines of her fingers on the pillow, pausing to touch the gleaming gold of her wedding ring. This heart-stopping girl was his. He could hardly believe it.

He almost fell out of bed, startled, when she suddenly spoke without opening her eyes. "You gonna just stare at me until I get up or what?"

"I..." he began, as sheepish as ever in front of her. Her amber eyes opened, weighed down by dark red lashes, and a smile flitted across her face. Goddamn, she was wearing his shirt, his dark brown tee with the architecture logo on the front, and nothing had ever been more sexy.

"Speechless?" she teased. Then she spluttered out a "hey!" as he flipped her own hair into her face. "Jerk!"

"You were asking for it," he laughed, shifting onto his side to face her.

"And how was I asking for it?"

"Oh, come on, you know you're acting irresistible."

"Am not!"

"You even stole my shirt and everything."

"Oh, you know what, David?" Flashing a savage grin, Genya shoved herself up and planted her hands on David's shoulders. Pinning him down on his back, she swung a leg over his waist to straddle him. "I am irresistible, aren't I?"

David blinked dumbly up at the goddess above him, pushing her curls out of her face. Other than his shirt, she was only wearing black lace sitting low on her hips.

There was no way he could say no to her now.

Especially not when she set her hands on his bare stomach and rolled her hips suggestively onto his. "God—Genya," he bit out, hands clinging to her hips and head tipping back. He heard her laugh evilly and felt hair draping across his collarbone when she bent down over him. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered there, "try saying please." Her teeth caught his earlobe and a whimper worked itself out of him before he could bite it down. She was too perfect, too much, and she knew she was enough to make him beg.

"I don't think we should—" David's voice failed as Genya started kissing his neck, running her tongue down to his shoulder in a way that made his eyes roll back slightly. "I mean, we just woke up."

"And?" She worked her way down to his chest, kissing across it and making his fingers clench in the sheets. Reaching up, she curled her fingers in his hair and pulled just right. David was moaning in a second, lost in her.

"And don't you have to m—meet Alina and Zoya today?" he asked, getting it out in a gasp.

She didn't bother to answer him. She just ran her fingers up his sides, along the slight definition of his stomach. David, shyly insecure as he didn't work out as much as most guys, swallowed at the pure adoration in Genya's touch. She raised her head to touch a kiss to his nose. "Why do I make you stutter like that?" she asked, as she always did when she wanted him to say it.

Wilting under that warm gaze, he rested his hands at the small of her back. "Because I'm in love with you."

That must've been the right answer because her lips were on his in a second. Sighing immediately, David wound the fingers of one hand into her hair and kissed back. She tasted of honey and gold, and when he was bold enough to lift his hips up against hers, her moan trapped itself against his mouth. Hearing that sound unhinged something inside of him. His hands were under her shirt in a moment, smoothing along the bend of her back, feeling that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

Ever-careful, he skimmed his fingertips questioningly along her stomach. In answer, she grabbed his wrists and guided his hands higher. She mewled deliciously into his mouth when he cupped her breasts and David was floored by the fact that this was his wife, that he was the only person in the world permitted to touch her like this. Without breaking the kiss, he hooked his legs around her waist and switched positions. There was a disappointed sound from her as he took his hands from her shirt, but he just covered her complaints with another heartfelt kiss.

"David," she sighed out, as he moved his mouth from hers to her neck, and then down the center of her chest over her shirt. Her back arched as he pushed her shirt up to reveal her stomach and grazed his lips down toward her navel.

Fingers threaded into his hair and David whined against her stomach. "God, Genya, I want to—" The sentence was never finished. He ran his hands up and down her legs, reveling in every soft inch of her. When he trailed a line of kisses down one thigh, she bit her lip hard.

"Please," she begged and David grinned, because this time, he'd been the one to make her fall apart. Feeling bold and wanting desperately to hear her unravel for him, he pressed his lips over the lace of her underwear.

Genya gasped, fingers tightening in his hair. Her breaths started coming fast and instinct made her part her legs in the most gorgeous invitation. When David moved his mouth again between her legs, her head dropped back. "Ohh—please," she pleaded again, stammering over her words. "David, I want—" Her words failed when he teased her with his tongue, hand reaching up to find her breast over her shirt. Feeling her under him, so beautifully unhinged, David wished that there weren't any clothes between them at all.

Nearly gasping, he brought his mouth to her and did something that had her hips rising up off the mattress. The beautiful sound of her moan was in his ears and all conscious thought left him. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his arms under her, hauling her toward him across the mattress, hands exploring. She laughed, breathless, when he kissed at her jaw and ear. But her hands moved down to halt his when he rucked her shirt up her torso.

"Wait, David," she managed, blowing strands of hair out of her face. "I have to—David!" It was squeaked out in a giggle as he mewled in disappointment and continued to pull at her clothing. "I seriously have to get a shower now. Alina and Zoya are waiting for me."

"No," David complained. Pausing, he sighed down at her, pinning her between his arms. "Stay with me."

"I can't, I really can't."

"Then take a shower with me." He nosed at her hair encouragingly, satisfied with the soft noise she made in return.

"You know that'll be way too distracting."

"I know. That's why you should let me."

His cheeky smile didn't convince her, however, and she only huffed a laugh. Her hands framed his jaw, fingers caressing over the dark hair at the nape of his neck. He was painfully aware of her legs wrapped loosely around his waist and the hint of her softness beneath him. But Genya, tempting as she was, only leaned up for a chaste kiss. "I have to go," she murmured ruefully. "But maybe later, when I come back, we can finish this." Her fingertips trailed suggestively down his spine to his waistband.

Sighing, David bent his head and nuzzled into her neck. "Okay."

"Later" seemed like a very long time from now all of a sudden.

-X-X-X-

Genya hummed a nonsense tune under her breath as she gathered up the wet bundle of her hair and wrung out some of the water. The shower water felt good pounding against her skin and steam was already rising from the ivory tiled walls. She smiled at the thought of how she'd left David, alone and with adorable bedhead in bed, wishing he was with her. She almost wished she wasn't going out with Alina and Zoya today, as much as she loved spending time with them. She'd rather spend all her time with her husband.

Briefly, she leaned against a wall and let her tangled hair fall down her back. The water slanted off of her, catching on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and imagined that it wasn't water droplets slipping down her chin to her neck; it was David's fingertips, gliding down the curve of her spine, the center of her chest, her stomach. She tipped her head back against the wall with a sigh. She wanted him to touch where the water clung to her now, everywhere and all over.

God, I'm too in love with him, she thought. Shaking inappropriate ideas out of her mind, she stepped away from the wall and turned the water off. The bathroom dropped into silence. She continued to wring out her hair as she slid open the frosted-glass door and searched for her towel on the ground. "There you are," she murmured cheerfully, ready to dry her hair and get on the road before her friends killed her for being late.

She had just dried herself mostly and gotten the towel tied around her, when she heard a little click of a doorknob. Head jerking up, she blinked as David peered hesitantly around the door. The way he looked at her was a question, but she wasn't sure what it meant. Maybe he needed to brush his teeth or something and she was getting in the way. "David? Do you need to—?"

Genya cut herself off with a squeak, because David was across the room in a second. He didn't stop when he reached her, just took her shoulders in his hands and backed her up until she met the wall. They stood like that, startled with each other. Genya could see the nervousness in David's eyes, always-careful with her, wondering if he'd gone too far. Drops of water fell from her hair and plunked onto the floor between them.

She really needed to get ready. But he was still wearing his cute red-and-black striped boxers, and she could see the scars on his arms from working with metal.

She shouldn't give in when she'd already said no. But he nosed her jaw now, breathing in her scent, and when she inhaled his, he smelled like home.

She shouldn't be encouraging him.

But she grabbed him by the jaw anyway and hauled his mouth onto hers with nothing more than a gasped, "David."

She kissed him with abandon and David moaned against her lips, fingertips pressing into her bare shoulders. She hooked her leg around his waist to bring him even closer. Feeling evil, she bit down on his bottom lip and sucked. The noise he made then made her feel weak inside. Hands raking over her, digging into the fabric of her towel, he kissed from her mouth to her jaw. Genya let her head fall back against the wall, clinging to his shoulders and feeling the lean muscle flex in them.

"Thought you were worried about being late," he mumbled into the crook of her neck. One of his hands was curled around her thigh now, keeping her leg up around his hips.

"Shut up," she breathed out. David pushed closer to her, pinning her flat against the wall. She felt a slight twinge of worry at the way her towel bunched up around her hips, but when David sank his teeth into her shoulder, she didn't care anymore. She was panting shamelessly when he reached between them and slipped his fingers beneath the fabric of her towel. He found the place between her legs and Genya's back arched, because this was skin on skin and nothing had ever felt like this.

"Oh—" She whimpered as her hips moved on their own, pushing forward to meet him. His free hand snaked up her ribs to the knot in her towel. She bit down on her lower lip when she felt him loosen it. They didn't have time, not now, but the thought of hurried desperate sex in the bathroom with him was overwhelming. God, she was going to be in so much trouble when Zoya heard about this. She struggled to find her voice through the haze of pleasure and David's hand still grinding delicious circles against her. "David, I—"

"Don't tell me to stop," he pleaded, a whine edging his words. He kissed at her neck, her collarbone, longing making his movements rushed. "I can't, Genya, I've wanted you so badly..." Trailing off, he nipped at the underside of her jaw and pulled the tie of her towel loose.

The unbridled love in his voice made her melt. Nobody had ever made her more helpless than David and she was sure he felt the same way about her. So she caved, closing her eyes as she let the towel unravel and drop to the floor. With eyes still closed, she listened to David's soft sound of reverence as he drank in the sight of his wife in front of him. It nearly brought a smile to her lips. But then her mouth was covered with his and she was much more preoccupied with kissing the air out of him.

They lost themselves within moments. The air on her bared skin felt cold. But then her breasts were in his hands and he was kissing her so hard, she thought her lips might bruise. Bending her back, she arched her chest up into his touch. A tiny moan escaped her when he drew his thumbs down her breasts and then her stomach, mapping out the curves of her. One hand stayed to trace the line of her hip and the other settled again between her thighs. Genya left lines down his back with her nails and bit down on his shoulder when he moved his thumb over a particularly sensitive place.

"You're beautiful," was whispered into her ear, as his kisses burned her skin and his hands drove her crazy. Her mind was fogged with ecstasy and a deep longing for him. She barely found the breath to whine in anticipation when he hefted her up with hands beneath her thighs, the last bit of his clothing between them joining her towel on the floor.

They'd done this countless times before since they'd married. But it still felt just as sacred at the first time when his hips sank into hers and she had to drop her head back. There was a second of stillness, with their rough breaths mixing and the quiet slip of skin. "Genya?" David asked shakily.

"I'm okay," she murmured. She brought her head up and rested her forehead against his. She watched the concern melting away in his eyes as she kissed his nose tenderly. "I'm okay."

Then he was moving, slow and gentle, because of course David was slow and gentle with his Genya. But it didn't matter that it wasn't the passionate seeing-stars scenes in the movies. It still knocked the breath out of her and had her groaning out his name with every motion of his hips. She ran her fingers down through his already-rumpled hair, burying her face in his neck as he found a rhythm. She drowned in it, delirious, and didn't care that he could hear every noise she was making in his arms. No this wasn't like the movies, because this wasn't sex. This was making love.

There was an instant when he was overwhelmed that she loved, when he huffed out an exhale that fanned across her chest. The hoarse "oh God," he let out made her grin into the softness of his hair. Then the next rock of his body was deeper and he found a place in her that had her giving a sharp gasp. A stuttered _rightthere_ was on her lips, but it disappeared in a wordless cry when he did it again. And again. Genya had to press her teeth together to stop herself from crying out every time their bodies ground together like that.

She felt the climax coming and didn't stop it; just rolled her hips up to meet David's when he moved to make it come faster. She watched David's shoulders tremble and knew that he felt the same thing she was feeling. His grip on her thighs pried her legs an extra inch apart and when he rocked into her that time, they hit that moment and everything ignited. David brought a fist to his mouth to stifle his ragged sounds, Genya's name leaving him in a mess of syllables. Genya cried out as pleasure shook her so hard, she knew she would've fallen if he hadn't been holding her up.

She focused on the patterns on the ceiling above them as she breathed heavily, coming down from her high as muscles relaxed and fingers unclenched. Strands of hair slicked to his forehead, David left tiny kisses up her throat. "I love you," he whispered to her, husky with emotion and a just-made-love softness.

Genya released a disappointed sigh when he moved from the way they'd been joined, lowering her legs from around his waist. But she was smiling when she traced patterns into his shoulders with idle fingers. "I love you, too," she murmured, and he enlaced their fingers, thumb grazing over her wedding ring.

Then she gave him a little shove. "Now I'm definitely going to be late, you moron."

He only laughed, rueful and with a twinkle in his eyes. "You certainly weren't complaining..."

"Be quiet and let me dry my hair."

"I'm just saying, you—"

She threw her towel at him.


	14. Chapter 14

-Hi, guys! Sorry for the long wait. Writer's block is a pain sometimes, lol. But here we are, at part two. I'm really happy that you love this story and are still loyal to it, even in some of my longer absences. My guest reviewer, Ashley: you are so sweet, and I honestly look forward to your feedback with every chapter. Thank you for the all the kind words, they make me smile every time I read them. :)

And thank all of you reviewers and readers so much. I'm glad you're enjoying this little story :3-

**_-Tease, Part 2-_**

Alina didn't know which was more disturbing: Genya's dreamy-eyed face propped up on her hand, or Zoya failing at hiding a heated blush behind her coffee cup. Both led to the same conclusion.

These two were up to something.

"Okay, tell me," Alina deadpanned, jerking Zoya's face up and making Genya blink. "What has you two so...happy, in a really weird way?"

"Erm," Zoya muttered.

"David," Genya admitted, shameless, twirling a red strand from her ponytail. She watched it twine around her wedding band and a light dusting of pink colored her cheeks. Oh, damn her, she was so adorable and married.

Alina sent her gaze to Zoya, pinning the raven-haired girl to her chair. The afternoon sun and outdoor seating of the cafe had caused Zoya to hide behind a pair of sunglasses. Now she REALLY looked as though she was hiding behind them. "What're you talking about?" she asked, as defensive as ever.

"You've been staring at the table like it's a hot guy for the past twenty minutes," Alina told her. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. "I'm the best friend, so I deserve to know what made you so happy. Because, I'm sorry Zoya, but you're never this happy."

Zoya opened her mouth as though to argue with this, then clamped it shut when Genya added, "must be a man. No one gets this worked up over happiness unless it's a man."

Alina raised her eyebrows. A thought occurred to her and she wondered why she hadn't remembered it before. "Is it Nikolai?"

Zoya pursed her lips, stubbornly silent, and fiddled with a sapphire ring on her finger. She didn't offer any response and once she deemed the ring to be positioned correctly, she busied herself with her hair around her shoulders. Then she paused, glancing at Alina, watching her expectantly. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" she asked, and Genya lost it.

"OH MY GOD," she gasped, whipping her head around to gape at Zoya next to her. "It DOES have something to do with Nikolai!"

Alina's jaw dropped. "No way."

"Yes way!"

Wrinkling her nose distastefully, Zoya picked at the edge of her styrofoam cup. "Why would I want to have anything to do with him?"

"Because you freaking love him, yes!" Genya cheered and shoved Zoya in the arm. All she received was a pointed growl in return. But that didn't stop the glow of triumph in her amber eyes.

Alina, on the other hand, was much too busy staring at Zoya in shock. "You mean you two are together now? Officially?"

"...maybe," Zoya confessed, eliciting another round of excited words from Genya. She shot a glare at her from over her sunglasses. "But, ONLY because, underneath the stupid cockiness, he's kind of...nice, or whatever." She examined her nails as though this wasn't a groundbreaking discovery for her two best friends.

"I'm telling everyone," Genya announced. Ignoring the threats spewing from Zoya now, she dug her phone from her shorts pocket and began texting intently. Shortly, the entire neighborhood would be informed of Nikolai's new relationship status. (This was similar to how Alina's relationship status had been updated as well)

"So, what happened?" Alina asked, folding her arms atop the little red table and taking a sip of her coffee. "Between you and Nikolai, I mean."

Coughing into her hand, Zoya slid her gaze away as her blush deepened. She mumbled something that sounded like, "that's private."

"Aw, hell no." Genya looked up from her phone and poked Zoya in the shoulder. "I have to hear this and I expect details."

Zoya huffed. "I don't ask you for details about YOUR love life."

"You don't care about my love life; I care about yours though, so go on."

Alina fought a smile that threatened to curve her lips. She was intrigued herself. Who wouldn't be? Her two friends who, had claimed to hate each other for years, were finally together. Genya was right, details needed to be shared.

Zoya nudged her sunglasses up from her nose to rest them on her head, pulling back curls of black hair. Her blush was definitely noticeable now. "It was nothing, Genya," she replied. "I just went over to his house to drop his jacket off because he left it at your party like an idiot."

"Mmmhmm," Genya hummed, spinning a finger as though telling Zoya to go on again.

"And I gave it to him. And then I maybe kissed him, but that was it!"

"There's no way that was it," Alina argued, pointing accusingly. "Look at you, you're redder than Genya's hair."

"Yeah, c'mon," Genya added. She snagged her iced coffee and took a sip. "There had to be more to it than that." At Zoya's annoyedbslightly uncomfortable scowl, she went on, "at least give me a hint, here. So I can guess what happened and make fun of Nikolai for it later." She paused, thinking for a second. "...wait, did you two...?"

Zoya blanched. "Oh—God, no. Are you kidding me? No way. But, um." Finally, the bit of ego that Zoya liked to show off began to surface, a slow smirk spreading her lips. "We might've done a little more than kissing..."

Genya immediately banged her hands on the table. "I knew it! Tell me more!"

"Not a chance."

"No—Okay, I know I said I just wanted a hint, but I take it back."

"It's not happening, Gen."

"Just a little bit more, c'mon, tell me..."

At that point, Zoya became very engrossed in drinking her hot tea and pretended to not hear a word that Genya was saying. Across the table, Alina frowned. It was just—there was a tiny flicker of a sour feeling inside of her that she wasn't accustomed to: jealousy. It came as a surprise to her, to think that she would be jealous of her best friends, when she should be very happy for them. They had found love, after all. It was natural for Genya to wake up to David making her late every now and then, and for Zoya to spend an afternoon doing...things at Nikolai's. But...

_Will I ever have that with Aleksander? _Her ears burned. She didn't dare to think of doing anything that was that...intimate with her boyfriend. She hadn't even told him about the little voice that had been in the back of her mind the past few days, telling her that maybe she had found it.

She was in love with him.

She needed to tell him. Somehow.

"...guys?" she ventured, cutting into the others' argument. Both girls looked to her expectantly. Alina rubbed at one arm, unsure. "Did you... How did you guys know that David and Nikolai were the ones you wanted to be with?"

Zoya narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Did Aleksander do something?" Genya demanded. "I'll beat him up if I have to."

"No, it's not that..." Alina inhaled deeply, bracing herself. "I think I might be in love with him." Even saying that to her friends was like forcing dangerous words out into the open, making her feel overwhelmingly vulnerable. God, if it was this bad, what would be like when she tried to tell Aleksander himself?

Genya's reaction was immediate: she squealed and reached over the able to shake Alina's arms in a mini-version of an excited hug. The result was awkward and had Zoya muttering something while rubbing her temples wearily. Alina gave a wobbly smile. "I'm so happy for you, Alina!" Genya exclaimed. "This is so great; you guys can come on double dates with me and David! How did he react when you told him?"

"Well..." Alina's eyes wandered off to the side, guilty.

Genya's smile disappeared. "You mean you didn't tell him yet?"

"Not really."

"Aw, Lina. Why not?"

Alina lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I don't know if he even feels the same way about me," she protested. "What if he doesn't and I just make a fool out of myself? How're you supposed to know when a guy is in love with you?"

Genya opened her mouth, but was cut off by Zoya slapping her hand down onto the table. "Easy," she began grandly, golden bracelets still jangling from hitting the tabletop. "Be a tease."

"Be a tease?"

"You heard me."

Genya's eyebrows knitted together as she thought about that. "That's stupid. What does that even mean?"

"It means," Zoya started, as though speaking to small children, "that Alina needs to look and act confident, and desirable. Meaning you need to learn how to flirt, by the way," she added to Alina, who gulped. "Trust me, it works all the time. Aleksander will be so turned on, he'll either prove he's a jerk by tackling her OR prove he's in love by confessing. Gentlemen ask permission; jerks tackle you to the bed and you kick him out."

"Can we not discuss this?" Alina asked, shying away from all ideas of Aleksander and a bed.

"I don't see how flirting is any easier than just asking him if he loves her," Genya said.

Zoya placed her straw between her lips again. "You know nothing then. If she asks him, she'll create the most awkward moment known to mankind. Do you really want Alina to go through that?" When Genya shook her head, conceding, Zoya went on with a smirk, "plus, flirting is ten times the fun, and while I teach her how to do THAT, you can pick out her outfit, Gen."

Genya gasped loudly in new enthusiasm.

Alina suddenly wished she hadn't brought the subject up at all.

She really wished she hadn't half an hour later, when she stood in front of the full-length mirror in Genya's bedroom. So far, she wore nothing but a fluffy cream bathrobe Genya had loaned her, over her underwear. She clutched it to her neck almost protectively. There was no way in hell she was wearing anything that Genya gave her if it was revealing in any way.

"Alina, you would look so cute in these!" Genya's twinkling voice announced her entrance from her closet, toting along a pair of mint-green shorts. They were the same style as hers, except hers were red. "Here, try them on."

Alina caught the shorts as they were tossed to her and examined them skeptically. "I'm not sure..."

"You don't have to be sure, just try them," Genya told her, gleeful that Alina was letting her give fashion advice.

Sighing, Alina cast a wary glance toward the closed bedroom door before unraveling the robe. She grimaced to realize her underwear were blue and hoped that it wouldn't show through the shorts as she tugged them on. Thankfully, it seemed that she wouldn't be wearing them in front of Aleksander anyway; they were so tight, she wondered how Genya herself could wear them. "Holy crap!" she gasped out, unsnapping the button again to get some breathing room. "Genya, how do you wear these?"

"Oh. Well, actually, those are kinda old," Genya admitted. "I was hoping they'd fit you, because you're pretty small, but I guess not. Oh well. Back to the drawing board."

"Can we please NOT go back to the drawing board?" Alina asked, bordering on a whine. "You know I hate trying on clothes."

"Trust me, I know," Genya replied, as though Alina had put her through enough horrors trying on clothes at shopping malls already. "But this is different, because it's special. You gotta look really nice for your date with Aleksander tonight."

"I didn't set up a date with him tonight."

"You're going to surprise him. I thought Zoya told you."

"ZOYA is supposed to tell ME when MY date is happening?"

"We're only trying to help your love life."

Groaning loudly, Alina turned her face toward the ceiling and dragged her hands over her eyes. What had she gotten herself into? This night was going to be a disaster. She'd actually thought that maybe this could help her tell if Aleksander felt the same for her and now, she'd rather go with the awkward moment and just ask him. God help her.

It was at that moment, perhaps her lowest moment of dread and embarrassment, that Zoya's voice floated in from the closet. "Don't even think of trying something else on her, Genya. I think I may have hit the jackpot with this one."

Alina didn't dare to peek at whatever outfit had Genya squealing, "it's PERFECT!" and only thought to herself, _I'll let Aleksander be the judge of that._


	15. Chapter 15

-_**I need to stop lying about how many parts there are to this. Okay, so maybe the "tease" part is over, but there is a sort-of epilogue to Tease that will come after part 3. Okay, you know what, don't worry about it, here have some Darklina fluff. **_

_**Thank you for your feedback; you are awesome :)-**_

_**-Tease, Part 3-**_

It was about four in the afternoon, with the sun beginning to slant across the house, when his phone chimed. Someone had texted him and no one texted him because they knew he'd rather have them call; there was only one person who texted. One person he didn't bother to tell that he wasn't that into texting.

Aleksander sighed, exasperated at his own stupid heart for jumping as soon as his phone went off. He ordered himself to calm down and check his phone later. He'd just gotten out of a shower, after all, and so far, he'd only gotten his jeans on. His hair was still wet, for God's sake. Any other day, you would ignore it and read it later, he told himself.

A few seconds later, he was in his room, taking his phone from the bedside table. Dammit. He refused to acknowledge how quickly he entered his passcode or pressed the messaging app. He refused to acknowledge that for once, he wasn't in control of himself.

It was Alina. Of course it was Alina. Aleksander smiled a little, not bothering to hide it because he was home alone. Then he read her actual text and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. Was she...?

FROM: ALINA _What're u wearing? ;)_

And then, almost directly after that:

FROM: ALINA _Omg, Genya took my phone, I'm sorry, i didn't send tht _

Aleksander wondered if he was disappointed because Genya had been the one to send the first text to him and not Alina. No, that would be stupid. He wasn't the kind of person to text like that anyway. An idea struck him and he bit his lip over the smile as he texted back.

FROM: ALEKSANDER _Jeans_.

There was a period of silence and he could imagine a flustered Alina gawking at the phone, while Genya hollered behind her about how awesome it was. Aleksander's smile widened. Then his phone went off again.

FROM: ALINA _What_?

FROM: ALEKSANDER _well, you asked what I was wearing._

FROM: ALINA _no, I mean, ur just wearing jeans?_

FROM: ALEKSANDER _Haha, I just got out of the shower, Alina, so yeah._

Aleksander blinked, rereading his text after he sent it. _Did I just write "haha?" What's wrong with me, that's as bad as writing "lol," God. _

He was a mess today. He dropped his phone onto his bed and headed back into the bathroom, shaking his head. A droplet of water slipped from his hair and down his nose, surprising him. He hadn't dried it yet. He'd been doing this a lot lately: forgetting things and getting distracted. He wasn't dumb. He knew what was distracting him.

Her.

And it was driving him mad. He'd be outside, walking, and notice a cluster of flowers in someone's yard and think that Alina would love those. He'd be heading to work in the morning, and if he was in his car, he'd imagine how great it'd be to have her next to him with her jokes and her smile. Or he'd be on the motorcycle and imagine her behind him, arms around his waist and hair wind-swept.

He didn't dare to imagine her here, her reflection in the mirror while he toweled his hair and tried to put her from his mind. This couldn't be healthy. Was this how it was, having her in the back of his head all the time? Did people really behave like this when they fell in—?

He squelched that thought before it could go any farther. He wasn't supposed to— He wasn't the kind of person to come to rely on someone else so deeply like that. It wasn't how he'd been taught; he'd been taught to rely only on himself and keep others arms-length away. It was better that way. He wouldn't be hurt then. But, Christ, _Alina_.

Since when did wanting something make him so weak?

He'd just snagged the dark maroon tee from the edge of the sink when two things happened at once: his phone dinged again and there was a louder, distant ding from his front door. Who...? Tugging the shirt over his head, he left the bathroom again and picked up his phone. His heart hit his ribs like lightning.

FROM: ALINA _Go to the front door. I have a surprise 4 u._

"What're you up to?" he murmured to himself. He didn't text back. Rather, he stuck his phone in his back pocket and did as she asked him. The walk down the stairs and through the hall felt like it took much longer, all of a sudden. He stopped at the front door and stared at it like a moron. Gathering up the old Aleksander, the confident one, he swung open the door with a half-smile on his lips. "What kind of surprise is this supposed to be?" he asked, playful and resting his shoulder against the doorframe. Then he saw her and the smile was wiped right off his face.

Alina toed at the ground, nervousness written all over her, and the tiniest smile on her face. A cream lacy skirt hugged her without being too tight, ending a good bit above her knees. The red top she'd added to it was wide-necked and showed her collarbones. He could see them because her hair had been pulled into a ponytail and styled into wide, flowing curls the color of autumn.

He'd never been struck speechless before.

"H—hi," she stammered, tugging self-consciously at the ponytail. "I was thinking that since you aren't, um, in the studio today we could maybe go out? Or hang out here, it doesn't matter, I just wanted to, uh, see you." She'd fumbled herself into silence again and it was just as adorable as ever.

Aleksander wasn't in control over what came out of his mouth it seemed, because what he said was, "you look amazing."

Her smile became radiant and his hands trembled. He hid them in his front pockets. It was hard not to stare. Summer looked good on her, tanned into her skin and melted into her brown eyes. He had to look at her eyes, because to look anywhere else might make him crazy.

"Can I come in?" she asked, hands linked behind her back, probably so that they wouldn't fidget. Her gaze flickered to his damp rumpled hair and then to his arms, and then away again. Aleksander warmed to think that she was noticing him.

"Yeah, of course." He stepped aside to let her pass. She took the first step and he realized he was holding his breath. If he breathed in, he'd catch her scent (she smelled like spring, flower blossoms, sunlight...) and he couldn't handle that right now. She made it halfway past, before she confused him by halting suddenly. For a split second, she seemed to be mulling over something, chewing her bottom lip. Then she spun, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and kissed him.

It was done fast, as though she was afraid she wouldn't do it if it wasn't done quick enough.

His eyes widened, hands rising unsure from his pockets. Her lips were soft and tasted of bubblegum lip balm. Holy hell. His palms were pressed to her back before he could stop them, head tilting to kiss her back. It was warm, and searing, and right, and he held back a soft sound in his throat. His back met the doorframe and he leaned against it for support, as she stretched up to meet him. Her body melded to his, chests together, and body heat against him. He could've kissed her in his doorway for hours.

Unfortunately, she pulled back, breaths a little ragged and eyes dazed. "Hey," she stuttered, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"Hey," he breathed back. He sounded ridiculous, he knew, but he couldn't stop it. "What was that for?"

"I just missed you, I guess," she replied. One of her hands had moved to the hair at the nape of his neck, threading through it. "I haven't seen you in a while, so..."

He touched his forehead to hers, strands of her wispy bangs brushing against his hair. "Remind me to make you miss me more often," he joked.

Her bashful smile was worth it. But she drew her arms away from him in the next moment, stepping back to give him some space. His body ached for hers again. "So, I guess we should go inside, sorry," she apologized with a hurried glance out at the neighboring houses. "I think I might've scared your neighbors..."

"Probably," he admitted, taking hold of the doorknob. Alina wandered farther into the house and he began to shut the door behind him. Then she glanced over her shoulder and her gaze lit up unexpectedly.

"Hey, is that your motorcycle?" she asked, as she scampered up to the doorway again and peered out into his driveway.

Aleksander followed her gaze to the sleek vehicle sitting in front of the garage, where it usually waited after he'd just gotten home. He hadn't had a chance to move it to the garage yet. "Yeah, it is."

"I know I hated it when you first moved in," she grimaced, "but it's not so bad now. I mean, I've always wondered what it's like to ride one."

He glanced sideways at her, at shy careful Alina who was once terrified at the prospect of stubbing her toe on a table leg. "Are you...asking me if you can ride it?"

"Well, yeah," she answered. "But with you." Concern was obvious in the way she chewed on her thumb nail. "I think I'd kill myself if I drove it alone."

If he did this, it was going to kill him. There was no way he'd be able to concentrate with her on that motorcycle with him. No way.

He was already walking out toward the driveway with her, so apparently, he wasn't listening to his conscious today. "I don't think I have any extra helmets," he hedged, reaching the bike and running a loving hand over the handlebar. At Alina's worried look, he went on, "so we'll go slow. Around the block once, okay?"

She had that look on her face that screamed DANGER. It was the same look she'd gotten when he once suggested going on the highest roller coaster at an amusement park. But this time, she squared her shoulders and nodded. "Okay."

"If you're sure." Swinging a leg over the seat, he sat and then waited meaningfully.

She just looked at him. "What? Where do I sit?"

"Behind me."

"But isn't it safer to sit in front?"

"You can't drive a motorcycle, Alina."

"...what if I fall off?"

His lips tipped up at the corners. "You won't fall off if you hold onto me."

Cheeks now tinted pink, she edged toward him. "Oh. All right." Aleksander waited as she hesitantly walked up to the side of the motorcycle, eyeing it as though it might attack her. "It's gonna suck to do this in a skirt," he heard her mumble, and turned so that she wouldn't see his grin. Then there was a rustle of movement and he wasn't smiling anymore. She was right up against him, flush against his back, and her arms circled around his waist. Her fingers linked over his stomach and her breath caught at the toned muscle she felt through his shirt. He sent up a prayer for strength.

"Ready?" He tossed the question over his shoulder with much less confidence than he felt.

It was given right back to him with more confidence than he'd heard from her before. "Ready."

The engine started with a thundering rumble, but it was nothing compared to the thunder of Alina's heart at his back, to the race of his own heart in his chest.

She would make a fool out of him.

-X-X-X-

"That was awesome!" Alina cheered the moment she hopped off the motorcycle a short while later. Her voice met the walls of the garage and bounced right back to her. Her crimson sandals matched her shirt and clapped against the floor as she gave an exhilarated spin. "I can't believe you get to feel that all the time!"

Aleksander, having gotten off of the bike after her, leaned back against the side of it. Her ponytail was windswept and gloriously askew, fingers pulling strands back into place out of her eyes. He had an irrational thought of freeing her hair from the little band and winding his hands through it. "What happened to you?" he asked, laughter in his voice.

Twirling to meet his gaze, she cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"You used to hate this motorcycle."

"And?"

"And now you're crazy about it."

The flush in her cheeks now looked like it might be from more than just the wild ride. She took a couple slow steps toward him, testing and tentative at the same time. "Maybe I'm just crazy about you." She said it like she was trying it out, knowing that it was unlike her to say such things.

He slanted a glance her way. "Alina, are you flirting with me?"

Biting her lip, she nodded, adorably shy. He hadn't expected her to admit it and he really hadn't expected her to keep coming toward him, until she could brace her hands on the motorcycle's seat. Arms on either side of him, not touching him, but pinning him there just the same. It was a sin, how easily she made him want to ask her to touch him. "I said I missed you, didn't I?" she asked, like feathers grazing skin.

He cupped her face with one hand, fingers drifting across her cheek. Her skin was soft and she let those chocolate eyes flit down to his mouth. His thumb roved over her cheekbone. The urge to kiss her, to make a mess of her and make her his, was all he could think about. "Aleksander."

His name on her lips coiled something up deep inside of him. "Hmm?" he hummed, skimming the tip of his index finger down her cheek and along her ear. He felt her shudder, but didn't have time to feel smug about it. She was whispering a breath's space away from his mouth.

"Kiss me?"

His answer was melting their mouths together, sinking his hands into her hair like he'd wanted, and combing it out of its ponytail. It fell about her shoulders and he slid his fingers through it to the back of her neck, marveling at how it made her sigh. He wanted to feel it like silk between his fingers every minute. She finally gave him that secret wish, hands falling to his sides. Her kisses were like sugar and when he urged her lips apart, she whimpered into his mouth.

He wanted her more with every second. He was losing himself.

She broke away from him, and surprise registered in his clouded mind until he felt lips on the space under his ear. He stilled. Alina had never done this befor—

She worked a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and his head was falling back without his control. Trying to breathe regularly, he wrapped an arm around her, hand curling in the back of her shirt for an anchor. It didn't work. Her tongue met his skin and he tilted into it, heard himself whine. This wasn't the old Aleksander, who knew himself and knew how to keep control. This was someone different. This was Alina's doing, Alina unraveling him, Alina crawling under his skin and making his knees weak; and God, he had thought love was sweet and kind, but it was devastating, didn't know mercy, and it would make him crumble. It was her mouth on his throat and one of her hands under his shirt, splayed across his stomach.

"God, Alina," he murmured, the words dragged out of him. He pressed the side of his face to her hair and bit down over a moan when she nuzzled into his neck. Her fingers slid from his stomach to his hip, over ink partially hidden by denim. He longed for her to be the only one to see it and when her lips moved against his throat, he imagined them on his tattoo and it broke him. "I'm screwed," he mumbled.

She giggled, breathless and perfect. "Why do you say that?" she asked, as her thumb hooked around his belt loop.

His eyes closed, accepting that long-buried truth, and he whispered it into her hair. "I'm in love with you."

Her body froze against his. At first, he felt a twinge of doubt. He hadn't stopped to think that she might not feel the same about him. He normally thought things through, but for her, he kept making exceptions. She lifted her head to look at him, hair tousled around her neck, and her heart in her eyes. "Alina?" he asked, as she touched his face with delicate fingertips.

A wobbly smile touched her lips. "I was...I was waiting for you to say that." She sniffed and he wilted for her. He touched tender kisses to her mouth, her nose, her forehead. His thoughts ceased when she breathed out, "me too, Aleksander. I'm in love with you, too."

Dammit, she made him so _weak_.

Suddenly, he looped his arms under the backs of her thighs and stood up, lifting her at the same time. A squeak escaped her as she clung to his shoulders, legs around his hips. "Where are we going?" she asked around a lighthearted grin, pushing some hair out of her face.

"Inside," he mumbled into her neck, kissing the silken skin he found there and listening to her muffled moan. One of her hands was down the back of his shirt, nails scratching his back, and he almost dropped her when his knees threatened to buckle. "I don't wanna scare the neighbors again," he murmured and she snickered.

The walk back to his house took years.

He remembered seeing his new neighbor months ago and planning on knowing her name.

He didn't remember planning on giving her his heart.


	16. Chapter 16

-I'm so so sorry for the long wait with this, and the chapter's a bit short. But I'm trying to get back into this again, because I recently came to appreciate these two lovely characters :3 This is definitely a rated M chapter! So there's your warning. I really hope you guys don't hate me for taking a long break, but thank you for the wonderful support. Your reviews are all amazing. Please let me know what you want to happen next, as I am fighting off writer's block right now XC-

**_Tease, Part 4_**

There was no way in hell that Alina was going to be able to tell Genya about this with a straight face.

She was drunk on happiness and on him.

They collapsed through the door together, into a room that Alina hadn't dared to think about setting foot in. Aleksander's bedroom was lovely, all shades of grey and ebony, from the nightstand to the silk-clad bed. Her nerves threatened to crash back in a panicked rush the moment he set her down to perch atop the edge of the bed. But then his hair grazed her chin as he lifted his head, their foreheads and noses together. She lost herself in quartz-grey eyes as he said in the softest murmur, "Alina, if you want to stop, at all, just tell me."

Zoya's words (about men and asking for permission) rose in Alina's mind again and she was smiling idiotically before she knew it. She looped her arms around his neck, laughing now because her smile had made him smile back. "I don't wanna stop," she breathed. "I don't wanna stop, Aleksander, not with you."

"Alina." It left him in a rasp and then his lips were crushed to hers, in wonderful gasping heat. It wasn't Aleksander that pushed her back to the mattress, rather it was Alina dragging him down with her. The covers were soft under her back, perfect compared to the hard heat of him above her. She drowned herself in the dark taste of him, in his kisses that knocked the breath right out of her lungs. She wasn't thinking when she reached down between them and tugged up the hem of his shirt. She wanted to see him.

She tried to help him out of his shirt and ended up catching it on his nose. Taking over for her, he huffed a laugh at her clumsiness. Alina giggled back, giddy and high on him, and snorted. Embarrassed, she covered her face with her hands, smothering snickered apologies. He gently pulled her hands away and placed a kiss on her nose.

She hadn't known that laughter could be a part of something so intimate and it warmed up something inside of her.

He halted all of her thoughts with a burning kiss to her mouth, then another on her chin, her jaw. Sighing, she tipped her head back and let him explore down her neck. Every touch felt like a form of worship, as though he wanted to cherish every inch of her. His lips reached her collarbone and she gasped when she felt a hint of teeth. Her fingers splayed across his shoulders, marveling at the warm flex of them. He was stunning, she could see that now, all toned muscle and skin she ached to touch. It meant so much more to think that he was all hers to touch, anytime she wanted, and she was his.

So she ran her palms down his back and reveled in his skin, then skimmed her fingers up the toned dips of his abdominals. Even better than the feel of him was the sound of his grateful whimper against her neck. "Can I...?" He asked it chastely, but with want ringing in his every word, as his fingers pulled the hem of her shirt out from where it was tucked into her skirt.

Alina would've been charmed by how careful he was being, except that she wanted him so badly, it was killing her. "Yes," she gasped, taking over and rucking the shirt up her body without thinking. It was only once it was off that she realized that she was wearing the plainest, beige bra in the world. And matching underwear.

Not the sexiest fact at the moment.

"Er, um." She wasn't sure how to address this, having never been in the situation before, but something about Aleksander encouraged her. "I know I'm not that...pretty or anything..."

"Are you kidding me?" Aleksander traced his fingers down the length of her arm, gaze gentle. "Alina, I think you're beautiful. I don't know how you can't see it, but I do." Bending down, he brushed his lips across her forehead, fingertips coaxing a few loose strands from her face.

Alina told herself that dammit, she was not going to get choked up right now. But he was making it a lot harder than she'd thought. "Um," she said around the tiny lump in her throat, "thanks."

His laugh was music to her and she basked in it.

They sank into love slowly, exploring each other, finding all the different ways to unravel each other. His fingers pulled the hair out from under her and threaded through it, spreading it out in autumn curls across the sheets. Alina smiled against his shoulder, feeling the smile break in a sigh when hands ghosted across her ribcage. His fingers mapped out the bend of her sides, one hand going to hold himself up off of her on the mattress. The other continued downward, smoothing over the front of her skirt and hooking under her right knee. She sucked in a fast breath when he pulled her leg up to curl around his hips, possessive.

"What're you doing?" she asked, hinting at a whine as he nipped at her earlobe.

"Trying not to lose my mind."

"Yeah, but you're going so slo—" Her complaint morphed into a surprised sound as he rolled his hips down into hers. Sparks tingled and he moved like magic, body fluid in his heated movement.

Teasing hints of pleasure hit her through their clothing, the denim of his jeans crinkling the front of her skirt. Her head tipped back and she bit her lip when he let out a soft noise above her. Suddenly, his weight left her and she opened her eyes, about to ask him what he was doing. Then she felt him slip his hands under her to find the zipper on the back of her skirt. His gaze on her face was a question.

"You being all shy is adorable, really," she joked. "But you can touch me, Aleksander."

"I am touching you," he returned amusedly, guiding the zipper down with deliberate slowness.

Alina flushed, glancing away. "You know what I mean."

Smirk falling away, he peeled the skirt down her legs and let it crumple on the floor. Alina refused to let her blush deepen as his eyes ate her up. She did shudder though, when palms worked their way up the length of her legs and he bent over her again. He held her by the hips and looked at her as though she was all he saw. "Come here," she muttered, fisting a hand in his hair and pulling their mouths together again.

She kissed him like she aimed to claim him and he let her. They fought not to break it as he sat up to push out of his jeans. Her fingers dipped into the waistband to help, sitting up to meet his mouth with her own. As soon as his hands were free again, they were on her. He pulled her up by the waist and nudged her chin back, coaxing her to drop back her head. Digging her nails into his shoulders, Alina felt him burn a trail of kisses down her throat. His tongue met the hollow of her collarbones, whispers of sweet nothings etched into her skin.

"What you do to me..." He trailed off with a whimper, sliding a hand up her back and finding the clasp of her bra. Her body stiffened naturally, but he nuzzled into her neck and breathed reassurances as the hooks came undone. Alina relaxed herself, remembering with an electric jolt that he was the only person seeing her like this. Rolling her shoulders, she skimmed the straps from her arms and dropped the fabric from her.

She'd always been rather modest for her size and she pressed her teeth together against a wave of insecurity. But Aleksander whispered, "gorgeous," into her ear and she smiled.

She still wasn't ready for how she had to suck in a breath when he touched her, hands cupping her breasts. Her fingers tightened on the back of his neck and her eyelids sank low. "Aleks—" He kissed her, long and deep, winding an arm around her to hold her close. Teeth met her bottom lip and she moaned into his mouth.

"Please." She whispered it to him and he eased her back onto the mattress again.

She ceased to think. She didn't stop when he slipped her last bit of clothing from her. She didn't stop when he slotted himself between her legs, warm and sure above her. She didn't stop when she finally saw the small, black sun tattooed on his hip. It was incredibly easy to let go with him.

When he finally sank into her, her back left the mattress with a surprised noise. "Oh—" She hissed, shutting her eyes against an unexpected sting of tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the crook of her neck, trailing reassuring kisses across her collarbone. "It won't hurt soon, I promise."

He shifted, hips rolling experimentally and she whimpered at the new burn of pleasure. "I trust you," she breathed.

They moved together, slow. Alina's breath was knocked out of her anyway as she clung to him, caught up in the way he moved, joined with her. She wound her legs around his waist and arched her hips up to meet him. The breathless groan she received in reply made her do it again. He worshipped her. Hands skimming along every curve of her body, making her feel no less than a goddess. She ran her fingers through his hair to make a wonderful mess of it and pulled at the black strands with every movement of his body. She could drown in this, she decided. Even if she shouldn't.

She could fall and drown and welcome it.


End file.
